







Copyright N°__ 

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/ 

The Escapade of 
Roger Drew 


by 

FRANK DILNOT 

\i 



1923 

THE STRATFORD COMPANY., Publishers 
Boston, Massachusetts 














Copyright, 1923 

By the STRATFORD COMPANY, Publishers 

Copyright, 1923 
By FRANK DILNOT 


« < 

l t t 


* 


©CI.A698584 



The Alpine Press, Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 





Contents 


Chapter Page 

I Missing.1 

II Roger’s Plight.9 

III A Providence Which Shaped His Ends . . 17 

IV A Man Friend.27 

V A Study in Rubber.34 

VI 0 Those Women.41 

VII Journeying.53 

VIII Business First.66 

IX Sir John Magnet.71 

X Moral and Intellectual Damage . . .79 

XI Spying Out the Land.87 

XII Doings at the “Daily Spur” . . . .94 

XIII Plunging Deeper.102 

XIV Bullion and the Ladies.110 

XV Magnet’s Day in Paris.119 

XVI Roger’s Lie.129 

XVII Roger and the Home Secretary .... 138 

XVIII Magnet Comes Home.150 

XIX Bullion Revolts.156 

XX Letters of Note.164 

XXI The Garden Party.171 

XXII Masquerade.177 

XXIII Unveilings.188 

XXIV Magnet Surprises Roger.195 

XXV Dixon Takes a Hand.202 

XXVI Dixon Works Fast.210 

XXVII Roger at Bay.217 










CHAPTER I 
Missing 

t( TT DOESN’T seem possible that a young man 
I known to so many people should disappear like 
A a piece of thistle-down.” 

Mrs. Defensor at breakfast with her daughter in 
a New York hotel looked up after reading some letters 
from home. 

“Something about Captain Drew?” asked Joan 
Defensor. 

“I was hoping there would be some word from 
Lamptons in London.” 

“Even Lamptons are not omniscient.” 

Joan Defensor went on with her work of sorting 
out steamer labels which lay in a pile by the side of 
her plate. 

6 i Three trunks in the hold, six things in our cabin . 9 9 

Mrs. Defensor watched her. 

“I wonder if we are doing right in going back so 
soon.” 

Joan left her seat, and went round the table, and 
softly smoothed her mother’s hair. 

“We’ll do as you like. I think there is as much 
chance of finding him there as here. ’ ’ 

There was a likeness between the two women de¬ 
spite the years of age which separated them. Both were 
tall, both had blue grey eyes with curious points of light 
in them which might mean reserves of indignation 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 

tenderness, or merriment. In the elder woman, 
too, were memories of the lithe grace which marked the 
girl. Differences laid emphasis on the similarity. The 
touch of chestnut in the silver hair of Mrs. Defensor 
was in contrast with the ebon sheen which was one of 
the glories of Joan. The abundant smooth black hair 
went with a certain suave beauty, a silky fresh com¬ 
plexion, a straight nose, with lips full of feeling. De¬ 
spite an intuitive gentleness there were hidden fires in 
Joan Defensor. She lacked the tiny dimples which 
lighted her mother’s face in conversation, and gave a 
suggestion of youth to the woman of sixty. Indeed one 
had the curious feeling that in some unnameable way 
the daughter was the older of the two, notwithstanding 
her radiating youth. 

“We’ll come across him sooner or later, mother. 
At the end of the war many young men found they had 
to strike out into new ways of life. He had travelled 
before; he went abroad again to find some new method 
of making a living. It’s quite commonplace. We shall 
certainly find out where he is, presently. And don’t 
forget we may be a little disappointed in Captain Drew 
when we meet him. We’ve never seen him.” 

“We shan’t be disappointed in him. How could 
we be!” 

A waiter knocked at the door, and came in to clear 
away the breakfast things, and the two women walked 
over to the window. 

“A hero is not always handsome and charming, 
sometimes not even well mannered.” 

Mrs. Defensor shook her head almost impatiently. 
“What does it matter! Trifles like that.” 


[2] 


MISSING 


“I suppose they are trifles/’ said Joan. 

Mrs. Defensor smiled but her face went back to 
seriousness immediately. 

“How nice it would have been if Captain Drew 
had known Richard when he was young. Pm always 
thinking of Richard when he was a boy. It’s hard to 
picture him as a grown man.” 

“I must have been about nine when he changed 
from knickerbockers to trousers. I was as proud as 
he was. I used to wish I was somebody else ’s sister so 
I could have fallen in love with him.” 

Mrs. Defensor stood, looking out of the window, 
and her voice drooped. 

“Do you remember how he came in drenched to 
the shoulders after wading into the canal to save some 
kittens a man tried to drown ?” 

“I don’t think I was home then. I shall always 
remember Devonshire where we were that summer, 
and how he got up in the night and stole some pears 
from a garden because I had said Pd love to have 
some.” 

“And Farmer Wren threatened to have him 
locked up. ’ ’ 

“And you paid about a pound a piece for the 
pears. I don’t think we could have been so fond of 
him if he had been a real good boy.” 

i ‘ He was always good. ’ ’ 

“Do you remember when at eleven he ran away 
home from the preparatory school? And the fight he 
had in the second week after you took him back?” 

“I didn’t like his fighting, but I wouldn’t have 
had him a coward.” 


[3] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“He was no coward, mother. He never had any 
fear of anyone. If he had been more careful in 
France —” 

Joan stopped herself. She always tried to keep 
her mother’s mind clear of that terrible morning in 
May when the fateful telegram came to their home in 
London. 

“I wish dad had lived to see him grow up,” she 
said. 

“He was very like your father as a young man, 
Joan. Oh that terrible war!” 

Joan put her arm round her mother’s waist. 

“It’s no use worrying. We’ve passed through 
that. He will always live for us in one way. And we 
really have a very happy interest in finding out this 
friend of his. I’m sure we can help him. That’s what 
Richard would have liked. ’ ’ 

Richard had been life’s core to Mrs. Defensor. 
His end had done the work which years had left un¬ 
finished, and she had gone from what seemed an unchal¬ 
lengeable youthfulness to elderliness in a period of 
months. Unrest had come upon her. Perfunctorily 
she carried on her friendships, and she showed a spas¬ 
modic tendency to travel — a tendency unknown to her 
when Richard could come home. She rested on the 
sadly happy thought of meeting Roger Drew, and when 
he disappeared without a word an affectionate obses¬ 
sion for the young man who had befriended Richard 
in his hour of helplessness provided her with an aim 
for which her daughter was thankful. Lawyers were 
set to work, without results. She fretted, and Joan 
was glad, for anxiety was better than apathy. Money 

M 


MISSING 


and effort were freely spent. The reason why the re¬ 
peated invitation of her old friend Mrs. Burton for 
a visit to her Virginia home across the Atlantic was 
accepted lay in the tardy discovery that eight months 
previously Roger Drew had sailed for America. 

“You don’t suppose he’s dead.” 

The two women were busy with their preparations 
for their departure when Mrs. Defensor thrust the sug¬ 
gestion a little fearfully at her daughter. 

“His aunt would certainly have heard of it if he 
were dead,” said Joan. “We write to Bath every 
month. His aunt has promised to communicate with 
us directly she gets in touch about him. ’ ’ 

“I wish he knew we were searching.” 

“He probably does. He’s avoiding us. He has 
no need to. I suppose his idea is that a devoted mother 
and a very plain daughter will feel they have a claim 
by old associations to enmesh him into matrimony.” 

Joan laughed heartily at the thought. 

‘ ‘ He need have no fear. We have had far too much 
bother about this young man. He is not for me thank 
you. Probably he will be just as evasive as a husband. ’ ’ 

“Joan, I don’t like to hear you joke about him that 
way. He may be in straits. He may have some reason 
for keeping away that we know nothing about.” 

“Just trying to avoid two meddlesome women,” 
said Joan, “that’s probably the explanation. He has 
no desire to be done good to against his will.” 

“I doubt if he even knows we are looking for him,” 
said Mrs. Defensor. “Why should he? He was a 
friend of Richard’s during the war, but after Richard’s 
death he didn’t think there was any need to see us.” 

[5] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


‘‘ He must have known we were interested in him. ’’ 

“I fancy he is a rather careless sort of young 
man.’ ’ 

“I only wish we had a photograph.’’ 

For the first time that morning Mrs. Defensor 
smiled. 

Joan’s eyes sparkled hut not with fun. “I admire 
Roger Drew, I respect him, I am as grateful as you are 
for all that he did for Richard. But from what I 
learned of him from Richard’s letters he is one of the 
last men on earth about whom I should have sentimen¬ 
tal notions. When I fall in love it will be with a man, 
strong, self-contained, capable of great affection, steady 
as a rock. I don’t want a butterfly. ’ ’ 

“I wonder,” said Mrs. Defensor. 

“All the same,” said Joan, “I’m just as anxious 
as you are to find out Roger Drew, and to do what we 
can for him. Do you know I think we have been rather 
impractical. ’ ’ 

“We have asked all our friends. We have written 
to a lot of people. I really don’t know what more we 
could have done. We can’t exactly pursue him like a 
criminal. ’ ’ 

“That depends how much we want to find him. 
We might have put an advertisement in the paper.” 

“I don’t think that would be very nice.” 

But Joan became warm about her new suggestion. 
Why had they not thought of such practical means 
before? There were the private detectives as well as 
the newspapers; other expedients began to frame them¬ 
selves. Her arguments had an unexpected result, for 
presently Mrs. Defensor said, “Joan, I don’t believe 
[ 6 ] 


MISSING 


we should be right in going away, leaving Captain 
Drew here, without learning anything about him.” 

“We’ve made all arrangements to go, mother. 
You know you want to get back home.” 

“We ought to leave no stone unturned.” 

Joan had a picture of her mother waiting on in 
New York, exhausting herself with anticipation, sapped 
by the daily announcement that there was no fresh 
news, deceiving herself with hopes of seeing a young 
man who might well enough he on the way to Buenos 
Aires or Australia. In England there would be the 
mild distractions of old friends, the thousand links 
of home. Joan bent herself to the task of persuasion, 
and she showed how the work of enquiry might go on 
in their absence, how the cables could keep them in 
touch, and how if necessary they could swiftly return 
to America. She was planning methods even as she 
talked, and presently she won her mother over. 

It was two hours later that Merton J. Connick of 
Connick and Brown, the enquiry agents, was shown 
into the apartment of the Defensors. A big shouldered 
man with dull eyes he listened carefully to the story, 
inserting a deft query here and there. 

“I don’t see that there should be any real difficulty. 
If you had come to us on your arrival in America you 
would certainly have been in touch with Captain Drew 
before now, I don’t know how much we can find out in 
two days, but I ’ll promise you that within a week you 
shall have news.” 

“I wonder if we’ve done right,” said Mrs. Defen¬ 
sor after Connick had left. 

“I’m quite sure we have,” said Joan. 

[7] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“I would hate to make him feel uncomfortable.” 

“I have an impression that it would take more 
than the inquiries of a firm of private detectives to 
make Roger Drew feel uncomfortable.” 

Joan was in a glow when Connick was announced 
in the midst of their packing on the succeeding day. 
He had come with news, and he was fired with a sense 
of pleasing efficiency. “I have some information,” he 
said, “Mr. Roger Drew came to this city from Cincin¬ 
nati a week ago. He stayed at the Blank Club till the 
day before yesterday, when he left, saying that he was 
spending a day or two with friends.” 

Questions descended on the detective. Where 
could he be found? Was there any possibility of fur¬ 
ther news before the “Latian” sailed next day? Would 
he send a wireless message to the ship if anything came 
out after their departure? Was there a hint of the 
friends with whom he was staying? Could not the 
club give some further information about him? 

The detective took from his pocket-wallet a cutting 
from a New York newspaper of that morning, and with 
the immobility of professional pride handed it over to 
Mrs. Defensor. The paragraph concerned a commer¬ 
cial project, and it ended with the statement that a 
Mr. Roger Drew would within a few weeks be leaving 
for Europe in charge of American interests. 

“It’s quite evident he’s here,” said Connick. 


[8] 


CHAPTER II 
Roger's Flight 

T EN days before Mrs. Defensor and Joan dis¬ 
cussed Roger Drew in New York a man of about 
thirty-four, with dark hair and reflective blue 
eyes, standing at the window of a hotel in Cincinnati, 
might have been supposed to be watching with the in¬ 
terest of a stranger the truly American scene below, 
the low-browed street cars, the hurrying groups of 
business men in soft-brimmed hats, the old negro with 
the muffler round his neck gazing into the cigar store, 
the raucous off-handed newspaper boys, the towering 
oppressive regularity of the business offices opposite 
with their thousand windows reaching skyward and 
stretching unbrokenly along the street beyond range 
of sight from the hotel. It was a picture which might 
well pique contrast in the eye of a Londoner, but Roger 
Drew was looking through and beyond the things in 
front of him, surveying with a sense of disturbance his 
life, or at least that part of his life which was imme¬ 
diately ahead. Introspection had no place in Roger 
Drew. He was a young man of action, and in the 
course of adventure in many lands had rarely allowed 
doubt to halt him, much less disturb him and make him 
uncomfortable. And now by some twist of outside 
circumstances and his own emotions he was in a 
state of mental indecision, annoyance with himself, and 

[ 9 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


amusement at his own feelings. He was looking 
blindly at that Cincinnati street. 

He turned from the window, and rang his hell. 
Three minutes later there was a knock at the door, and 
John, the negro bellboy, who waited on him, came into 
the room. A smiling friendly person was John, who 
in the course of a month had come to be quite at home 
with this whimsical Englishman, who, with serious face 
said funny things, asked queer questions, and never 
gave less than a quarter as a tip. Roger Drew looked 
at him abstractedly. 

“You rang, sir?” 

“John, tell me what’s on at the theatres. I would 
like to go somewhere tonight.” 

“What do you want, sir?” There is good vaude¬ 
ville at the Grand.” 

Roger shook his head. 

“A New York company is in a society play in the 
theatre on the square.” 

“Society play?” said Roger Drew doubtfully. 

“In the theatre right over here there was a new 
piece opened last night called ‘Nothing But The Truth’. 
I heard Mr. White, the manager, say it was very 
good, sir.” 

Roger Drew looked at John, and apparently 
weighed up the comparative attractions of the enter¬ 
tainments, and then he suddenly said, “John, have you 
ever been in love?” 

John grinned. 

“About every six months, sir.” 

“Yes,” said Roger Drew thoughtfully, “that’s the 
[ 10 ] 


ROGER’S FLIGHT 


difficulty. What would you do, John, if you were in 
love with two women at once?” 

John encased himself in a smile which expressed 
doubt, pleasure, incredulity, and sympathy. 

“And suppose you had two women in love with 
you at the same time, John?” 

John buried himself still deeper in that all envelop¬ 
ing smile. 

“Yes, I see your difficulty,” said Roger. “The 
point is how to settle the matter satisfactorily to one¬ 
self, and there are only two methods which occur to 
me at the moment, one is a good dinner with a pint 
of sparkling Burgundy, and that is out of the question 
when one is suffering from the blessings of a prohibi¬ 
tion country, and the other is to throw oneself into the 
society of further pretty and attractive women and to 
trust to Providence. That is more or less out of the 
question, too, thank goodness.” 

All this was a little beyond John, and his smile 
took on a touch of bewilderment. 

“And so, John, I turn to the drama, which may 
or may not clarify the emotions as well as the brain.” 

“Perhaps, Mr. Drew, you’d like to go to the vaude¬ 
ville tonight?” 

“On the contrary, John, you made a suggestion 
of the utmost value. ‘Nothing But The Truth’ is guar¬ 
anteed to be amusing. I will go and see what humour 
is to be derived from ‘Nothing But The Truth’. Bring 
me up a pitcher of ice water, and ask the people down 
stairs to get me a ticket for the theatre.” 

There is bound to be something unexpected in the 
actions of a young man of thirty-four who has among 
[ii] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


his qualities that of initiative, and who for years past 
has been alternating between periods of drift and 
spasms of enthusiastic effort. The unexpectedness is 
likely to be interrupted by embarrassment, and em¬ 
barrassment had at intervals lain heavy on Roger 
Drew. It was frequently of a financial character. Now 
and again it was of a different kind. 

Roger Drew walked out into the street with the 
full intention of going to the theatre, but by the time 
he had covered the hundred yards to the corner of the 
square he had decided to pay a visit to the Philipsons. 
He was very fond of Marie Philipson, but the difficulty 
in which he found himself was that Marie, with the 
devotion and romance of twenty-two, was fonder of him 
than he was of her. At least that was the remorseful 
thought of Roger, who, true to his kind, would have 
probably been helplessly in love with Marie if she had 
not displayed her own feelings so clearly. As it was 
Roger in her society was never without an impulse of 
deep tenderness, which made Marie always a possi¬ 
bility. Since Marie’s father was a lawyer only com¬ 
fortably off, and Marie had no money of her own, and 
Roger himself was always on the edge of poverty, 
there could be no question of an immediate union, and 
cowardly Roger wondered if his affections would stand 
a protracted and indefinite strain. All these considera¬ 
tions, with one other not yet mentioned, had caused 
him to decide to leave Cincinnati at short notice for 
New York. He was going on the following day. And 
then at the last moment some dormant sense of cour¬ 
tesy, of kindliness, sent him to say goodbye instead of 
writing an excuse. 


[12] 


ROGER’S FLIGHT 


Roger came to this decision in face of the fact 
that little Blanche Arthur, for whom he had at times 
felt a real touch of passion, was to see him off at the 
station next morning. She was a dark haired little 
thing with lustrous eyes, who dabbled in painting, and 
who would one day he an heiress in a small way, for 
her mother owned part of one of Cincinnati’s principal 
streets. Blanche Arthur, like Marie Philipson, had 
swept upon him unawares. In the course of his 
months stay in Cincinnati, Roger had made many 
pleasant acquaintances, and was a popular figure in 
what may be designated a section of leading society 
in the city. Slightly enamoured of both girls from the 
start, he had at an early date committed his affections 
to each, and now, having roused emotions which put 
him in practical difficulties, he was flying from both. 

Roger went into a restaurant for dinner, and then 
made for the Philipson’s apartment, where he was re¬ 
ceived with a hearty grip of the hand from Mr. Philip¬ 
son, a welcoming sentence from Mrs. Philipson, and 
smiling vivacity and dancing eyes on the part of Marie. 
The high spirits of the latter depressed him. He must 
get his news over quickly. 

“Behold the distressed visitor/’ said Roger. “I 
have come to say goodbye.’’ 

“Goodbye?” echoed Marie. 

“Telegram tonight. You know I told you the firm 
I am representing might want me at any time. I’m 
leaving tomorrow.” 

“You’ll be coming back?” said Mrs. Philipson. 

“Certainly,” said Roger, lying glibly. “I don’t 
know when, but assuredly before very long. ” 

[ 13 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“What a shame you have to go!” said Marie, and 
Roger knew how much lay behind the girl’s words. 

He stayed nearly an hour, and was very glad that 
he had only the opportunity of being alone with Marie 
for three minutes, when she took him into her father’s 
room to look at a golf prize she had won the day 
before. Roger knew that if he stayed longer this 
bright-eyed girl would so manage her parents that 
there would be a prolonged time together alone with 
each other. 

“What is going to be your address in New York?” 
asked Marie. He gave the name of his club. 

“Roger,” she said, “I feel as if I’d known you all 
my life.” 

‘ ‘ Same here, ’ ’ said he, unflinchingly. 

“You won’t forget us?” she went on. 

4 ‘ The question is whether you ’ll forget me. ’ ’ 

“It’s not possible, Roger. You’ll really come 
back ?’ ’ 

He patted her shoulder. “What a question, what 
a question! ’ ’ 

t i Couldn’t I come and see you off tomorrow ? ’ ’ 

“Two of my men friends will be at the station,” 
said the mendacious Roger, “but of course if you like 
to come-” 

“Oh no!” she said with sudden hesitation. 

“Well then it’s goodbye for the present.” 

He had never kissed her up till then, and he put 
his arm around her with the idea of fulfilling his part, 
a very pleasant and seductive part as he looked into 
her bright eyes. She slipped away from him. “Not 

[M] 



ROGER'S FLIGHT 


yet!” she said. He bent low, and touched the tips of 
her fingers with his lips. 

Five minutes later he was in the street, feeling 
that he had virtually made an offer of marriage to 
Marie, and trying to forget it. He pitied Marie from 
the bottom of his heart. He felt himself a thorough 
scoundrel. And then with an effort of will he tried to 
think of what he was going to say to Blanche Arthur at 
the station the next morning. 

Blanche was less difficult than he anticipated, be¬ 
cause, having purchased his ticket beforehand, he was 
able to calculate carefully the time of his arrival in the 
taxicab, and to leave himself just a minute and a half 
before going on to the platform. A little figure in a 
gingham frock, looking particularly youthful and en¬ 
trancing, stood waiting for him. He almost wished 
that he had come earlier. “Oh, Roger,” she said, 
“you’ve got to go!” 

“No escape,” he said with an effort at forced 
cheerfulness. She held on to his arm. 

“I’ve got to make bread and butter, you know,” 
he said. ‘‘I only wish you were coming with me.’’ 

“I have a surprise for you,” said Blanche, “a 
little thought for you to take on the journey.” 

“Yes?” There was genuine anticipation in Roger 
as he looked at her. “I’m coming back soon you 
know, ’ ’ he said. 

“How soon?” 

“About six weeks, or a couple of months.” They 
were near the barrier now, and Roger was feeling in 
his waistcoat pocket for his ticket. 

“It may be that we shall never be parted again 

[is] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


after that.” He really meant it for the moment, as he 
looked down at her and saw what a sweet little thing 
she was. 

Blanche smiled to herself, and Roger knew it was 
a smile of acquiescence, and his heart smote him. 
“What’s this thought of yours?” he said. 

“Write me when you get fixed up in New York 
will you?” 

“Of course.” 

Passengers behind were pushing up against Roger 
as he stood in the gateway. 

“My thought is,” said Blanche quickly, “that 
you’ll probably see me long before that six weeks is 
up. Goodbye.” She turned and fled before he could 
say another word. 

Roger passed on down the platform full of thought. 
He was not entirely satisfied with himself. 


[16] 


CHAPTER III 

A Providence Which Shaped His Ends 

T HERE had been many a sad shake of the head 
at the country vicarage in Gloucestershire, where 
Roger’s aunt ruled a docile husband, and two 
strapping daughters. If he was not labelled as having 
gone completely to the bad, he was at least looked 
upon as one who had thrown away opportunity, and 
might soon place himself beyond the pale. Mrs. 
Bradley-Towner (and the Rev. John Bradley-Towner) 
felt that Roger was a reckless person who was inacces¬ 
sible to the call of responsibility. Had he chosen a 
different way of life he might have known the best 
of people, he might have found a quiet and dignified 
position in a Government office; George Johnson, Mrs. 
Towner’s second cousin, together with his late father’s 
friends in Lombard Street might easily have put him 
into a bank, or conceivably have started him in some 
way on the Stock Exchange. It was all very sad. 
Plainly could it be seen by those who knew anything of 
the world that Roger by years of steady work could 
have become a respected member of respectable society 
with a house at Beckenham or at Hampstead. Instead 
of which he was a rover without ties, without ambitions, 
devoid of prospects. Mrs. Bradley-Towner used to 
throw up her hands in a gesture which friends recog¬ 
nized as that of affectionate despair. 

Roger at Cambridge had taken his degree at 

[ 17 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


twenty-two, scraped through with the crowd, and his 
distinction in the University resided in the fact that 
he had been the leader in the famous hoax by which 
the authorities had been led to believe that the visit 
of an Asiatic potentate had been advanced a couple of 
days. Dignitaries with all the ceremonial befitting the 
occasion had received Roger Drew, disguised by himself 
and his fellow undergraduates, into the likeness of the 
potentate in question. The incident nearly brought his 
university career to a sudden finish, especially as it 
was the culmination of a disjointed series of adven¬ 
tures which had no connection with higher education. 

He had left Cambridge three months, when the 
death of his father, set him adrift, practically alone in 
the world, with an income of about four hundred 
pounds a year. His aunt in that Gloucestershire 
vicarage essayed to take him in hand in a motherly 
albeit somewhat domineering sort of a way, largely 
ignorant of the temperament of her nephew and with 
chaffing carelessness he bade goodbye to her influence. 

It would have been difficult for Roger Drew him¬ 
self to have explained the impulses which took him 
first to Moscow as the representative of a Lancashire 
firm making agricultural implements, and second to 
the south of France as the amateur representative of a 
London newspaper which specialized in society doings 
at the holiday resorts on the Mediterranean. In both 
cases he failed, failed because of a joyous energy which 
sent him off at tangents. It is no excuse that his 
vivacity reared him friends and devotees of both sexes. 
He wanted to make good but not enough to undergo 
drudgery. He journeyed to South Africa to secure a 
[i®] 


A PROVIDENCE WHICH SHAPED HIS ENDS 


fortune in gold mining, and discovered that modern 
gold mining is an occupation not at all adventurous, 
and just about as open to youthful initiative as work 
in an English cotton factory or steel foundry. Later 
he went to the United States as half companion, half 
tutor to a rich youth who was being sent to California 
for his health, and while in the middle of a boredom 
that was rapidly becoming intolerable the war broke 
on the world. Within six weeks Roger was back in 
London and had joined up. He went out to France to 
win his country a speedy victory, and discovered that 
war was a plodding and remorseless thing, touched 
with tragedy, but having more of mud and of blood 
than fame; and carrying ceaseless toil and sameness. 
From corporal to sergeant and then, following an en¬ 
gagement in which he was one of twenty-five men who 
were left out of one hundred and twenty, he got his 
commission. It was at the second battle of Ypres that 
he received a piece of shell in his thigh which in¬ 
capacitated him for seven months, and gave him the 
limp which was never to leave him throughout life. 
After that there were terrible months on the Somme, 
terrible in their uncertainty, their immobility, and the 
sense of everlastingness. Long afterwards he spoke 
of that period as a nightmare, split into sections by 
furious weeks of fighting in which to his increasing 
surprise he never received a hurt. He used to laugh 
as his own cowardice, the common cowardice of all 
sensitive and imaginative men, and was not afraid to 
laugh openly at it, even before the exploit which se¬ 
cured him the D. S. 0. 

So he may be seen at the end of the war something 
[19] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


of a derelict with a small gratuity from the govern¬ 
ment, with half his income gone as the result of fluctua¬ 
tions of the Stock Exchange. He sailed across the 
Atlantic to search the broad United States for oppor¬ 
tunities. He had a couple of articles accepted in New 
York newspapers, and at the invitation of a well-known 
editor wrote a witty description of an American’s trip 
to Europe, which was published in a weekly review. 
Then he had six articles rejected in succession, and 
he gave up the idea of journalism. He did some hack 
work for one of the moving picture firms, but this also 
quickly petered out. 

Roger Drew was a young man of resource, and 
not lacking courage. The situation at the moment 
called up his reserves, for he had exactly one hundred 
and fifty-five dollars in his pocket, he was due to receive 
a hotel bill that would amount to about seventy dollars, 
and his quarterly income from England would not be 
available for a month. In his own country he would 
not have dreamed of the expedient which came to him, 
indeed even in America he had an initial qualm but 
he made a wry face, and then grasped the nettle. In 
his first search for occupation he had made himself 
known to a lecture agency, and he went again. There 
was a friendly hand shake but no business. 

“They don’t want highbrow talk unless you are 
very well known,” said the agent. “Now if you could 
do something amusing.” 

“Amusing?” said Roger. 

“I am scouring New York by telephone trying to 
find the right kind of entertainment for a big private 

[ 2 °] 


A PROVIDENCE WHICH SHAPED HIS ENDS 


school in New Jersey for tonight. The man who was 
going has fallen sick.” 

“What is it they want?” asked Roger. 

“A man who can tell stories, a conjurer, a ven¬ 
triloquist, anything of that sort so long as he can do 
the thing well.” 

Rogeirs mind flickered hack to his University days 
when his ventriloquial pranks had got him into trouble 
more than once. He remembered how he was the star 
at a smoking concert one evening, then a smile crossed 
his lips at the thought of his aunt. 

That night Roger Drew went to New Jersey, and 
for the fee of a hundred dollars delighted a crowd of 
young people for nearly an hour and a half. One thing 
led to another. By the time Christmas came he found 
himself engaged as the light relief in a Lyceum tour 
for which he received one hundred and fifty dollars 
a week and his railway fare. This set him on his feet. 
His tour finished in the spring at a little city about 
twenty miles from Cincinnati, and he went on to the 
latter place to recover himself and to think about his 
future. 

That he should drift into the imposture of being 
a business man was the most natural thing for Roger 
when he came across pleasant friends who might not 
have been quite so cordial had they known he was a 
travelling ventriloquist. He told truthfully about his 
life in England, but he saw no reason for revealing all 
his private doings in emergency since his arrival in the 
United States. His lecture tour had been a hard one. 
He lazed away a week or two, tasted once more the 
luxury of flirtation, and then one beautiful morning 

[ 21 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


in early June found himself on the way to New York 
fleeing from the cloud of deception which he had 
roused. 

If the conscience of Roger Drew gave him some 
trouble on the journey his discomfort was increased by 
the very practical anxiety of the situation. To escape 
from one woman whom he was fond of was a task 
which might have depressed him, but to escape from two 
filled him with a kind of despair which was only to be 
borne by his particular temperament because he could 
postpone the evil day. And the curious thing was — 
he wanted to break with neither. He liked each too 
well for that. He told himself he must he a man, and 
put aside these weak preferences of his, especially as 
there were two of them. The painfulness of his posi¬ 
tion lay in the whole hearted devotion of the girls. He 
cursed his facility in obtaining their affection, for he 
felt that each of them would go to the limit in securing 
the happy consummation of what they believed to be 
a mutual attraction. He struggled vainly with the 
situation for the best part of an hour, and then found 
temporary relief in the magazines and papers which 
he had brought into the train with him. He was like 
that where women were concerned. He looked difficul¬ 
ties in the face, and then passed by them. 

Roger Drew had plenty of time for reflection in 
the train to New York, and though he forced difficulties 
away from him in the first few hours he was presently 
drawn back to himself again, and fell into a somewhat 
disgusted review of his past and an unpleasant survey 
of the days to come. The entanglement with the two 
Cincinnati girls was but the culminating touch. He 

[ 22 ] 


A PROVIDENCE WHICH SHAPED HIS ENDS 


had flitted from flower to flower before now, but 
amorous worries were trifles in the progress of a man 
swiftly hurrying to fortune. Recently he had realized 
a change coming over himself, an understanding that 
he was really a failure, and, with this, the shadow of 
a fear that he would presently have to take up that 
routine work in a London office which he had con¬ 
temptuously thrust aside a dozen years ago. The 
thought was hard to permit. Was he to begin the 
junior plodding at thirty-four which he had run away 
from at twenty-two ? He felt a little shiver. 

His total capital was about two hundred pounds, 
and apart from this all he had was a yearly income 
of about the same sum. And threaded through these 
practical reflections was the galling unshakable knowl¬ 
edge that he a man of parts at thirty-four was of no 
account. In the lowest aim of a man of action, that 
of making a competency, he had proved incapable. 
Roger did not spare himself. He found some extenua¬ 
tion in the war which had taken years out of the formu- 
lative period of his life, but he swiftly dismissed that 
excuse and went to the root of the matter. Instability, 
he told himself, coupled with an irrational energy had 
been his undoing. Roger was unjust to his own quali¬ 
ties, for while he had fled from the beaten track and 
spent himself in sudden outbursts, yet he had within 
him the power of concentration never fully tested, and 
he had a quick eye for character, and somewhere behind 
the humorous lines of his face there was courage — 
altogether a man well armed. 

Probably it was an inkling of this which originated 
his disgust. He had wasted himself without having 

03 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


any of the special tastes of the waster. He had not 
however reached the point where he saw that the secret 
of his failure lay in his lack of motive, that he had not 
been quite poor enough to suffer for money, quite 
imaginative enough to fight for fame, nor heroic enough 
to battle for some ideal. 

Nevertheless he had for some time past experi¬ 
enced a sense of aimlessness; and there had been grow¬ 
ing on him a dread of the years ahead. The prospect 
of semi-poverty was much more serious to him at 
thirty-four than at twenty-two — at which age he had 
perceived how simple and easy it would be after a few 
years to secure a fortune, become prominent, gather 
for life a circle of congenial and distinguished friends. 
Instead of that he found himself in his thirty-fifth year 
travelling between Cincinnati and New York with two 
hundred pounds in worldly wealth, with no friends that 
mattered. 

Roger was irritable. As he walked to the dining- 
car his lined face grew older, the shaking, swaying, 
bumping train so different he told himself in a sudden 
home sickness from the smaller, smoother and swifter 
main line trains in England. His eyes were pleasant 
as he sat down, but inwardly he was swearing at the 
glass of water in front of him on the dining table. 
This was the time if ever there was one, for a pint 
of wine. He ate sparingly, for he had begun to rocket 
through moods which had been growing upon him for 
months. He drank two glasses of the hated ice water, 
and in his abstraction he could hardly have told it from 
Sauterne. After dinner instead of going to the smok¬ 
ing car as usual he went back to his place in the pull- 


A PROVIDENCE WHICH SHAPED HIS ENDS 


man, asked the conductor to put up a small table in 
front of his seat, took some note paper from his hag, 
and began on two letters. He wrote to Marie Philipson 
and to Blanche Arthur at Cincinnati and told them he 
was unworthy of them, that he was desperately poor, 
and asked each of them to forget him. It took him 
an hour to write those two short notes, and when he 
had written them he tore them up, they were so impos¬ 
sibly brutal. 

There were the makings of a new man in Roger 
Drew when at the Pennsylvania Station in New York 
he took a taxicab up to his old hotel midway between 
Forty-Second Street and the Park. The anxiety and 
uncertainty of past months had reached a head, and 
his will was centering itself in a way which brought a 
warmth to him. He had faced the encompassing facts 
and had formed a determination. He knew that while 
he was getting a foot-hold he would have enough money 
to keep himself from the dead line of poverty— his 
knowledge of the world told him that he was a for¬ 
tunate man to have the chance. He had but vague 
ideas on his line of work, but his decision to stand up 
steadily to fate and fortune was the thing that mat¬ 
tered. He had a good many acquaintances in New 
York, business men at the Club, including a millionaire 
banker, and the vice president of one of the oil com¬ 
bines, both of whom had been attracted by his whim¬ 
sicality; some of the leading New York newspaper men 
were in his circle; he had been a welcome guest at two 
or three fashionable homes. And so he knew quite well 
he could dig up opportunity if he gave a week or two 
to the task, and he kept an open mind as to which side 

[ 25 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 

of the Atlantic should claim his services — though he 
had a homing instinct which made him hope for some¬ 
thing back in England. Surely there were Anglo-Amer¬ 
ican enterprises into which he could force himself. 

With carefulness he could live six weeks in New 
York, and then have enough for a first class passage 
to Liverpool, should it be necessary to make the cross¬ 
ing. When he reached the other side the quarterly 
instalment of his income would be due. This calcula¬ 
tion in itself was the first sign of Rogers new life; 
the next indication was his scheme of initial proce¬ 
dure — to visit within the next few days all his ac¬ 
quaintances of business standing in order to examine 
as far as he could what might be his field of value. He 
encouraged no dreams. He expected a good many 
disappointments, he knew it would probably be at least 
a week before he could get on the track of a special 
activity. 

The encouraging experience of steadfast adven¬ 
turers is that while openings for good fortune are per¬ 
sistently absent when looked for under a kind of 
desperate inaction, yet as soon as a determined effort 
is made in settled and hardworking directions the so- 
called happy chance in some entirely unlooked for field 
opens to view. The opportunity is in no sense the 
result of effort. The recipient can not pat virtue on 
the back. He wonders at the perversity which averted 
from him irrelevant luck till he began a plodding path. 
What happened to Roger Drew on the first night he 
went to his club had no relation whatever to the plans 
he had made. 


[26] 


CHAPTER IV 
A Man Friend 

R ANSOM the secretary of the club met Roger en¬ 
tering the hall, gave him a hearty hand-shake, 
demanded explanation of his absence, and 
and spread welcome round him. Roger was a man 
always popular in the club, and the Blanks in New 
York had made rather a pet of him, partly because 
he was so unlike the usual conception of an English¬ 
man, with his unpretentiousness and searching witty 
tongue. His thin figure and his lean lined face was 
always a welcome sight in the lounge, in the dining¬ 
room, or in the card-room. 

“Bill Diggs was asking about you yesterday,” 
said Ransom, “and Dixon was here three nights ago 
trying to find you to go up to his house for dinner 
with a party. Dixon is in the lounge now playing 
dominoes with some of the boys.” 

Roger strolled through the lounge to the little 
green table at the far corner where Bronson the editor 
of the “Daily Light,” and Judge Coley, and Scarsdale 
the accountant, and Dixon were playing for a dollar a 
game and a cent a point. There were exclamations 
and the dominoes were forgotten for the moment. 
“Hoping you had all reformed,” said Roger. 
“I’m well on the way,” said Judge Coley, “I have 
lost steadily every night for three weeks in succession. ” 

[ 27 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“ Having amassed two months’ winnings in order 
to toy with us,” said Bronson. 

“Sit down here, and cut in after this game,” said 
Dixon. “We’re sure glad to see you back.” 

“There’s been too much uplift in the club,” said 
Scarsdale as the party sat down at the table again. 
“We need you.” 

“The grave moral responsibilities of this nation 
— ” began Roger but was stopped further comment by 
a blow on the shoulder from Dixon which nearly took 
him out of his chair. 

“That’s the way we serious Englishmen are 
treated,” he said. “We try to live up to you and 
then — ’ ’ 

Judge Coley grinned, and Scarsdale who was 
busily mixing up the dominoes on the table for a fresh 
distribution said, “And we lose ourselves in wonder as 
to why you darned Britishers get the better of other 
countries. Cut for partners.” He turned over a 
domino. 

"When the game broke up an hour and a half later, 
Dixon took Roger by the arm. He said: “Come up¬ 
stairs to supper. Tell me all about yourself.” And 
Roger, who had curiously enough allowed his good 
friend Dixon to slip from his mind in his self-examina¬ 
tion and his plans of the day before, proceeded in the 
course of the meal to give Dixon some idea of his posi¬ 
tion and his program. 

Arthur Dixon was a man of forty with wide-set 
eyes and a jaw that was a little too square for pleasant¬ 
ness, but with a deep and friendly voice and eyes that 
immediately made you a friend or forever put you 

[28] 


A MAN FRIEND 


among mere acquaintances. Some men are intrinsi¬ 
cally and irretrievably negligible. Dixon would have 
been a man of account even if had not a penny in the 
world. As a matter of fact he was a remarkably suc¬ 
cessful business person, and, in character with some 
individuals of his type had been attracted by the light- 
tongued frivolity of the Englishman, and unknown to 
Roger Drew his first-liking had deepened into a real 
regard for reasons which are buried deep in the secret 
and unspoken associations of personality. Roger had 
felt his touch of sympathy before, and tonight he was 
to learn a good deal more of the link between them. 
The worry, the embarrassments, and the culminating 
decisions of the past twenty-four hours had made 
Roger more than usually susceptible to the kindly 
words of a strong man like Arthur Dixon, and that was 
how it was he was led to tell more of his personal 
position than his native reticence would have approved 
of in advance. 

Dixon talked about himself, too. “I had a little 
party of six to dinner a few nights ago, ’ ’ he said, ‘ 1 and 
I was anxious to get hold of you. I came down to the 
club to see if you had got back.” 

“Was it some special celebration!” 

“I had a couple of my directors there,” said 
Dixon, “we are marking the end of our third year, a 
wonderful year for us. We made eleven million dol¬ 
lars profit.” 

“Automobile industry, isn’t it!” 

“Yes. While we do not build any special car we 
nearly if not quite the largest firm in the world 
[ 29 ] 


are 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


engaged in making various parts. ‘ Fundamental 

Motorities, Ltd./ means a good deal, Roger.’’ 

“ As I have never had a car and have not the slight¬ 
est prospect of ever owning one,‘ Fundamental Motor¬ 
ities, Ltd./ means nothing to me except in the person 
of its president.” 

Dixon laughed. “ You ’ll be one of our big cus¬ 
tomers yet, Roger.” 

The Englishman looked up at his friend with a 
sudden thought. 

“Tell me, Dixon, something about your career. 
Here are you at the head of a huge concern, and a rich 
man, and you are not very much older than myself. 
I suppose you have devoted your life to the technical 
side of this automobile business.” 

Dixon smiled. “I’ve run a car for ten years,” 
he said, “but I’ve only been in the business four years, 
and I’ve been president of this corporation for the 
last three years.” 

“It’s weird to me,” said Roger. “What did you 
do before that?” 

“Seven years ago I was one of the directors of a 
peanut trust in Philadelphia. I left that after eighteen 
months to become the president of a chewing gum 
company in Chicago. Each of those concerns showed 
big profit. Four years ago I became chairman of 
‘Fundamental Motorities, Ltd./ and a year later was 
made its president.” 

There was no sign of exultation; he spoke in a 
slow matter of fact way that went straight home to 
Roger Drew’s imagination. He looked at his friend for 
a moment and then said, “There is a kind of fairyland 

[ 30 ] 


A MAN FRIEND 


atmosphere in the bigger business world of the United 
States.’ ’ 

“It doesn’t seem so wonderful to me as to you,” 
said Dixon. 

Roger went on, “You are an expert in business, 
and I am by way of being a connoisseur in human be¬ 
ings. I don’t suppose you dabble in that much, Dixon. ’ ’ 

There was a pucker at the corner of Dixon’s wide, 
firm mouth. “I sometimes get an impression about 
men that helps.” 

There fell upon Roger the knowledge that despite 
his previous respect for Dixon, he had under-rated him. 

Dixon looked at the Englishman, wide-eyed and 
thoughtfully. “Men are always a gamble,” he said. 
“They are like a poker hand. Four aces may be 
beaten, but it’s a fool who won’t gamble on four aces.” 

Roger knew that he was to find a new development 
in the American. 

“I have formed some impressions about you,” 
said Dixon. ‘ i Shall we go down to the library f I want 
to have a talk.” 

When they were both in comfortable chairs in the 
corner of the big book-lined room on the second floor, 
Dixon leaned back and said, “I’m going to talk busi¬ 
ness to you. But first let me say that I am not a 
machine, I can feel a man when he’s big enough. I 
know something about you but I’m going to give you 
a very big compliment. You may fail. Listen to this. 
I don’t mind if you do fail.” 

Roger sat forward, and all the expression had 
gone out of his face as he looked across at Dixon. 

[3i] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“You could go and see big influential people in 
England if you chose to?” 

“I suppose so.” 

“If the inducement or the prospects were good 
enough would you be prepared to go across quite 
soon?” 

Roger nodded. 

Dixon deliberated for a moment. “You say you 
have never owned an automobile. Can you drive one ?’ ’ 

“I’ve made that much preparation for pros¬ 
perity. ’ ’ 

Dixon drummed on the arm of his chair with his 
knuckles. 

“Will you come round, and see me in my office 
tomorrow morning at eleven-thirty. I want to think 
over matters, but the probability is I shall have some¬ 
thing definite to put before you.” 

“I will be very pleased. I am looking out for some 
opportunity. I want to be honest though, with a friend 
like you. I have no real business connections. I would 
hate to let you down.” 

Dixon relaxed a little, and his eyes lighted up. ‘ 1 1 
know,” he said, “I’m not acting blindly. I believe I’m 
going to take a chance with you, and whatever happens 
I shan’t grouse.” 

The sparkle in Dixon’s eye lightened Roger. “You 
are turning me topsy-turvy,” he said. 

“Not I. I’ll say this for you, it isn’t easy to turn 
you topsy-turvy. ’ ’ 

“Oh, isn’t it, by Heck!” 

“I have seen you win at poker, I have seen you 

[32] 


A MAN FRIEND 


lose at poker, I have seen yon insulted, I have seen 
you insult other people.” 

“A sure foundation,’’ said Roger. 

“I have known worse foundations/’ replied Dixon. 
As Roger went down to the office to see if there 
were any letters by the last mail and took a cigarette 
from his case, he found that his hand was shaking a 
little, a sign of excitement which disgusted and sur¬ 
prised him. 

He discovered a letter awaiting him from Mrs. 
Philipson which ran as follows: 

“Dear Mr. Drew:— 

We are leaving for New York three days from 
now, and shall be at the Hotel Battersea on Wed¬ 
nesday. Both Marie and I are looking forward to 
seeing you. Won’t you please come and call on 
us on Thursday? 

Yours very sincerely, 

Alice M. Philipson.” 

Roger put on his overcoat and hat and set out to 
walk to his hotel. “Things are moving,” he said to 
himself. 


[ 33 ] 


CHAPTER V 
A Study in Rubber 

EXT morning at breakfast Roger found his light¬ 



ness of spirit was tempered by the thought that 


^ Marie Philipson intended to descend on him in 
New York. That he deserved the visit did not lessen his 
discomfort, and he debated within himself as to the best 
means of getting out of the thicket. A letter seemed 
hopeless, and yet if it came to a meeting he was not 
sure of himself, was not certain that he could face the 
protests, and tears of outraged love. He might even 
have to marry her. And while he shivered he told him¬ 
self it would serve him right. Avoidance, delay were 
hardly within the prospect. Confound Cincinnati, and 
all its inhabitants! Well, it was a day or so ahead yet, 
and inspiration might seize him as it had in the past. 
He put the difficulty resolutely behind him as he went 
down town to Dixon ’s office. 

Arthur Dixon shot a word of greeting, drew a 
chair to the corner of his desk, and in his first three 
phrases was deep in business. 

‘ 4 Have you any idea of the size of the automobile 
industry ? ’ ’ 

“Vaguely immense, that’s all it means to me,” 
said Roger. 

“I want you to follow me for a minute. The auto¬ 
mobiles in America number about nine millions, say 
one for every twelve persons, men, women and children 


[34] 


A STUDY IN RUBBER 


in the country, or to put it in another way there is one 
automobile for every third family here. The automo¬ 
bile is one of the integral factors in our social life; it 
is part of everyday, just like breakfast or clothes or 
railway trains. That’s one reason why I’m in the 
motor industry instead of some sectional undertaking. 
It’s bigger, it has more openings, it is far more lucra¬ 
tive. Any definite improvement, any innovation which 
makes for increased safety or comfort or convenience 
means a fortune.” 

“A very large fortune,” agreed Roger. 

“One of our most important departments,” went 
on Dixon, ‘ ‘ is that in which we are continually making 
experiments, and trying day after day to find new 
things which will be of value to those who use automo¬ 
biles. Some of our adjustments and devices have 
already been very profitable. I come now to real busi¬ 
ness. And you won’t mind my giving you a word of 
caution. If you do not come in and take a part in our 
work I want you to forget what I am now going to 
tell you, because it involves a trade secret of consider¬ 
able importance.” 

“You may trust me,” said Roger quietly. 

“One of the main difficulties not yet overcome in 
connection with automobiles is that in wet weather 
cars are liable to slip, and it doesn’t matter whether 
the road surface is of wood or cement or mud there is 
the greasiness and danger, though in different de¬ 
grees.” 

“I know it full well,” said Roger. 

“Rubber tires have been made in all kinds of pat¬ 
terns, and the corrugations that have been moulded 

[ 35 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OP ROGER DREW 


into them, while they are of assistance, have never 
really met the case. Then the chains that are put on in 
wet weather are also some help. But neither chains 
nor any known species of pattern has overcome the 
liability to side-slip when the surface is wet. The 
difficulty is inherent in the use of rubber for tires. If 
you have ever had rubber heels on your shoes you will 
know how careful you have to be in preventing yourself 
from slipping up on a wet pavement.” 

‘‘Have you eliminated rubber from tires?” 

“No, but we are on the track in another direction. 
Rubber has to be treated before it is of use. Pure rub¬ 
ber for instance can be dissolved by benzol but the 
introduction of sulphur and other things makes it un- 
dissolvable, and it is this amalgam which we use in 
the case of white rubber for tires and other purposes. 
It has been present in the minds of scientists that some 
treatment, some new ingredient might so affect rubber 
tires as to do away with the slipperiness in wet weather. 
There has been a long and disappointing process of 
investigation and experiment. A hundred times we 
have failed, but two months ago we hit on a discovery 
that promised results, and it is only necessary to tell 
you at this point that the basis of the discovery is the 
introduction of a hitherto untried chemical, a rather 
expensive one, in the manufacture of the rubber. I 
should say in parenthesis that we have our own rubber 
plant and make our own tires. We have progressed 
rapidly in the last six weeks, and a month ago the trick 
was ours.” 

Dixon in a sudden access of enthusiastic energy 
struck the desk heavily with his fist. 

[ 36 ] 


A STUDY IN RUBBER 


“By heaven, Drew, we have something colossal in 
this discovery. Here is the thing in a nutshell. The 
tires are to all appearances exactly the same as before 
but as soon as they become damp a chemical process is 
set up, which automatically and inevitably gives the 
surface of the rubber a new kind of friction, of ad¬ 
hesiveness, and practically prevents any possibility of 
side slipping.’’ 

“A big thing,” said Roger. 

“The biggest for years. The extraordinary value 
of the discovery lies in its automatic nature. The wet 
surface of the road which produces side-slip sets up 
action in the rubber which prevents side-slip. This 
peculiar quality lasts all the time the tires are wet.” 

Dixon got up and walked about the room with 
quick strides. “I have told you the secret Roger, and 
I needn’t say what it means to us here in the United 
States where the motor car industry is such a tre¬ 
mendous business. But it will also be of importance in 
other countries, in your own country of Britain where 
the automobile industry is large although of course not 
so great as here. I suppose you have a hint of what 
I’m going to propose to you.” 

“I think I see it,” said Roger. 

“We shall need a man to handle the discovery in 
Britain. It has occurred to me that you might have 
the opportunity.” 

Roger looked steadily at his friend and said, “Is 
this merely out of kindness of heart?” 

“I am sincerely glad to put this thing your way, 
but I should not do so, if I did not believe you were 
capable of helping us as well as yourself.” 

[ 37 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


‘ ‘ What about your London depot ? Why don’t you 
hand it over to them?” 

“I will tell you why. Our London place is a dis¬ 
tributing centre with good men in charge for the actual 
job in hand but I’m not quite sure that the manager 
there would be the best person for this purpose. There 
is another reason, secrecy is advisable. Once our Lon¬ 
don office hears about this thing it will be impossible to 
prevent the trade there getting knowledge about it. 
It is all very well to say it could be prevented but I 
know it could not.” 

“I am not what you would call a real business 
man,” said Roger, “and I tell you straight, Dixon, I 
think too much of you to take on the thing unless I am 
satisfied in my own mind that I can put it over for 
you. ’ ’ 

“That’s the kind of answer I wanted. I haven’t 
any doubt of you. You have shown me something of 
your connections. I know the kind of fellow you are, 
and the bigness of any project is likely to stimulate 
you rather than to frighten you. You are a pretty 
good judge of men. You are to be trusted. What I 
propose to you is that you should go over say in about 
a couple of weeks time, with a general description of 
this invention, and having with you on the steamer 
several sets of tires which as soon as you arrive you 
have fitted to various makes of automobiles for demon¬ 
stration purposes. I’m going to prepare the documents 
and if you can secure business interests, a finan¬ 
cier, or a group of financiers, to take it up I am going 
to pay you fifteen percent on the contract. The flat 
purchase price is two million dollars and an arrange- 

[ 38 ] 


A STUDY IN RUBBER 


ment for royalties continuing for the next ten years. 
You will see therefore that with a little good luck you 
ought soon to be in possession of a moderate fortune.’’ 

“I am going to accept your proposition,” said 
Roger, ‘‘ and I am not going to say one single word of 
gratitude to you. It’s quite out of the question. ’’ 

“None of this serious stuff,” exclaimed Dixon. He 
slapped Roger on the shoulder. “It is just a business 
deal. I’m going to use you and I’ve got to pay you 
for it.” 

“I know all about that,” said Roger. 

Dixon waved his hand airily. 16 Forget it, ’ ’ he said. 
“Now there are one or two particular points and they 
are very important. Maybe I’m rushing things a bit 
by sending you at this stage. Your line of procedure 
is to pick men you can absolutely trust, big men, give 
them every facility for examination and experiment, 
offer them the property on the terms set out on paper 
on the understanding that they will certainly require, 
namely that they come over here and see the manu¬ 
facture, and satisfy themselves that the project is com¬ 
mercially sound. We won’t tell them the actual chem¬ 
ical composition till we get them here, and are satisfied 
about them. ’ ’ 

“Won’t they guess it from what I shall have to 
say?” 

“There is an outside chance, we’ll take it.” 

Roger rose to go. ‘ 6 What’s the next step, Dixon ? ’ ’ 

“Come to see me tomorrow and I’ll have the 
papers arranged. Before the day is out I’ll take you 
to the factory in Jersey and show you the new material 
in tires. In thinking over the matter you will 

[ 39 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


probably get some ideas of your own in regard to the 
procedure in Europe; tell me about them tomorrow. ’ ’ 
The two men shook hands. 

ii There is one other thing/’ said Dixon. “I’m 
drawing you a check for five thousand dollars which 
will be charged to expense account. You will need some 
money to carry on.” 

As Roger returned to his hotel his mind was surg¬ 
ing. He had a new vista opened up to him. The big 
effort of his life was in front and with glowing heart 
he knew that Dixon would be justified in his trust. 

When Roger reached the hotel still in a scintilla¬ 
tion of mind he had a sudden little chill at the sight 
of a letter awaiting him. It bore the Cincinnati post¬ 
mark. This is how it read. 

“My dear Roger:— 

You will be glad to hear that we are coming 
almost immediately to New York. We shall be there 
two days after you receive this letter. Please get 
in touch with us. We shall be staying at the Hotel 
Battersea. 

Yours ever, 

Blanche. ’ ’ 

That Marie Philipson and Blanche Arthur should 
follow hot on his heels was an annoyance which for the 
moment shook even Arthur Dixon from Roger’s mind; 
that they should both be staying at the same hotel was 
a minor tragedy which might bring catastrophe of one 
sort or another within measurable distance. 

Roger went out for a walk in the Park to do 
some intensive thinking by himself. 

[ 40 ] 


CHAPTER VI 
Oh Those Women! 

R OGER for the first time in his life had a sense 
of opportunity; his feet were light on the pave¬ 
ment, and he experienced a masterfulness which 
made the future a pliant instrument in his hands. Not 
for nothing had he rolled through the world during 
the last ten years. He faced the chances, he knew 
there was hard and delicate work in front, but all the 
time there rang within him the song of success. 

A dissonant, irritating note came in the thought 
of the two girls from Cincinnati. That both families 
should have chosen the Hotel Battersea on Fifth Ave¬ 
nue was but one of those coincidences which seem im¬ 
probable but which happen quite regularly when peo¬ 
ple are in difficulties. He hardened his heart, and he 
thought of Dixon, but even as he did so he saw the 
trouble which might come up like a cloud out of the 
western sky. If he read those girls rightly either one 
of them was capable of making a sensation, and he 
dared not face the thought of what they might do to¬ 
gether. Roger had an understanding of American 
newspapers, and, in the tremulous privacy of his heart, 
acknowledged that each one of the girls had a good 
case. He called himself a dozen different kinds of 
names and having done that, he resolutely decided to 
seem a more hard-hearted scoundrel than he had been 
in the past. He had to escape. He could not allow 

[4i] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


this episode to come between him and Arthur Dixon, 
and all that Arthur Dixon meant. 

And so it came about that Roger at the end of the 
next day, when he had been over the factory, and seen 
the new invention, and discussed plans and details with 
his friend, put the proposal that he should leave for 
Liverpool that same week. His excuse was that the 
sooner he got to business the less chance for inter¬ 
lopers. The following morning Providence was at work 
to help Roger. He had a telephone call at breakfast 
time from Dixon urging him to come to the office at all 
speed, and on going downtown he found Dixon with a 
clipping from the ‘‘New York Star” in his hand. 

“Have you been talking about this thing, Drew?” 

“Not a word.” 

Dixon handed over the cutting and Roger read this 
paragraph: 


BIG AUTOMOBILE INVENTION 
SIDE-SLIP AND ITS DANGERS ELIMINATED 
SCIENTIFIC TREATMENT OF RUBBER MAKES 
NEW ERA FOR MOTORS 

“Lengthy and exhaustive experiments in the 
treatment of rubber by one of the leading automobile 
corporations have led to a discovery which in its 
various adaptations will probably solve the problem of 
applying the brakes at dangerous moments to automo¬ 
biles. The details at present are secret, but it is known 
that the new rubber will prove to be in commerce as 
important an innovation as was vulcanized rubber 
when it was first introduced. The present discovery 
has its basis in a chemical which produces a gripping 
surface instead of a slipping surface on the applica¬ 
tion of water. The vast potentialities of the discovery 

[ 42 ] 


OH THOSE WOMEN! 


are apparent, and steps are being taken to place it on 
the American market at an early date. Meanwhile 
Mr. Roger Drew, a leading business man, has been 
commissioned to sail for England in connection with 
the rights across the Atlantic. Though but incidental 
to the automobile, and likely to prove of value in a 
variety of directions, the new rubber is the greatest 
individual contribution to the automobile industry 
since the internal combustion engine was placed in 
commission . 91 

“A fine kettle of fish,” said Dixon. “I’ve tele¬ 
phoned the paper but can get no information as to 
where the paragraph came from.” 

“I haven’t dropped a syllable or a hint,” said 
Roger. 

“It has been known that we were experimenting 
but I thought our actual discovery had been concealed. 
There must be spies about the place. Probably some 
employee at the factory heard me talking to you the 
other day. I’m going to put the whole establishment 
through a sieve. But that doesn’t help us much now 
the murder is out.” 

“Is it really so damaging?” 

“Not necessarily, but it may be. I’m taking action. 
It is certainly annoying, and it cramps you. We have 
been pestered with applications for various concessions 
in the foreign rights by people who are taking a chance 
that we may be on the right track. There will be half 
a dozen individuals trying you before you get to the 
other side. ’ ’ 

“The sooner I go the better,” said Roger. 

“Do you mind changing your name for a week?” 
said Dixon quickly. 


[ 43 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“Not in the least, but what’s the idea?” 

“Have you booked your passage?” 

“Yes, I saw the steamship people yesterday after¬ 
noon and arranged for the ‘Latian’ at the end of the 
week.’ ’ 

“I know the manager of the downtown office,” 
said Dixon. 

He reached for the telephone, and Roger nodded. 
“George Grey is a good name,” he said. 

And thus it was “George Grey” and not Roger 
Drew who appeared among the list of first class passen¬ 
gers in the “Latian.” 

When Roger went aboard the ship at the end of 
the week, Blanche Arthur and Marie Philipson had 
been in New York for two days, and he had avoided 
any touch with them by changing his hotel, and by per¬ 
sistently keeping away from the club, where, he knew 
only too well, reproachful notes were lying in wait for 
him. Though Roger told himself that Marie Philipson 
and Blanche Arthur being young and impressionable, 
would soon recover, he had some disturbing moments. 
He had been on terms of tenderness with these girls, 
and he called to memory a dozen tokens of sweet kind¬ 
ness and consideration from each. And now that he 
was going away he was surprised at little warm feel¬ 
ings springing up within him, and an unpleasant prick 
in the thought that he would not again experience the 
shine in the eyes of Marie at one of his characteristic 
jokes, or hear the soft affectionate laugh of Blanche as 
she put his hat on straight. He could picture their 
emotions when they learned they were deserted. There 

[ 44 ] 


OH THOSE WOMEN! 


were moments when Roger was irascible towards a 
world out of joint. 

He was glad of the bustle of departure, and the 
energetic genial Dixon left few opportunities for sen¬ 
timental repining. Dixon was full of plans for his 
friend’s return in a few months with big business in 
his pocket, and Roger was lifted by the thought — 
although as the steamer left the pier and he waved 
an answer to Dixon’s goodbye there clung to him with 
shame-faced persistency the thought of the two girls at 
the Hotel Battersea. 

As the ship drew out into the Hudson it was with 
a touch of relief that Roger went below to make the 
routine preparations for the voyage. In times of per¬ 
plexity a fresh environment is often enough a clarify¬ 
ing influence, and Roger felt a pleasant relaxation in 
being compelled to push away his recent worries, and 
to turn to the every day trifles of shipboard. He knew 
the sea air was going to do him good. In a day or 
two he would be seeing both his past and his future in 
a clearer light, and measuring them in just, satisfying 
proportion. 

He had a pleasant sense of homecoming as he 
made friends with the purser on the companionway, 
following an introduction from the steamship com¬ 
pany’s representative and Dixon. 

“Anybody interesting on board, Mr. Jones?” said 
Roger, after his friend had gone. 

“No-one outstanding. There’s Ritson, President 
of the New York and Chicago Banking Corporation; 
the Countess of Dorchester with her two children; 

[ 45 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


Lyndon the novelist. Those are the only ones I re¬ 
member. ’ ’ 

“Mere dross ,’ 9 said Roger, resignedly. “Please 
let me come and sit at your table . 9 9 

“Come down and we will fix your seat at once.” 

They found the second steward in the dining 
saloon surrounded by passengers, proceeding with his 
everlasting job of making up the human patchwork 
for meals. 

“Don’t know most of these,” said the purser scan¬ 
ning the names at his table, “but here’s a fellow I’ve 
met, here in this seat on my left — Fred Bullion — he’s 
an American but lives in London, interesting fellow. ’ ’ 

“Bullion?” said Roger. “I wonder if he’s the 
man I knew at Cambridge. He got on in the world, he’s 
a kind of glorified secretary to Sir John Magnet the 
financier. ’ ’ 

“That’s the man,” said the purser. “He’s been 
over twice before on this ship. He’s a good sort. 
You’ll like him.” 

At dinner that night Roger met Fred Bullion, 
recognizing at once the thick-set figure, a little thicker 
than of old, and the straight-looking enquiring eyes 
which were even more questioning than they used to 
be. A kindly determined soul, was Fred Bullion think¬ 
ing along direct lines, and acting along direct lines, and 
generally reaching his goal. He had in him none of the 
whimsicality of Roger Drew. At the University as in 
his subsequent life, he had been a worker and not a 
dare-devil; not a man who sought to taste experience, 
certainly not an adventurer. He was on the way to 
being successful, and Roger was pretty much of a 

[ 46 ] 


OH THOSE WOMEN! 


failure, and yet Bullion in those far off days at Trinity 
had possessed a kind of admiration for the harum- 
scarum Roger Drew, his senior by a year, leader in 
mischief and popular reprobate. 

“Why, it’s Drew!” he exclaimed as the latter took 
his seat and nodded a smiling salutation. 

The two men shook hands. “Over ten years since 
we met,” said Bullion. 

“A funny old world.” 

They plunged into reminiscent talk about their 
acquaintances, many of whom had been extinguished 
in the war. Roger told Bullion that his changed name 
was for the voyage only, and was to prevent inquiries 
from trade rivals in connection with a business mission 
with which he was entrusted. “I shan’t betray you,” 
said Bullion. “You were always up to something 
queer.” 

They exchanged their experiences. During the 
war Bullion had been taken out of the fighting line and 
put on the staff. 

“That comes of having brains,” said Roger. 

“I’d prefer your fighting record.” 

“A serious young person.” 

A flicker passed across Bullion’s face. 

“Now don’t feel hurt,” said Roger. “There are 
half a million dead men and half a million live men 
who deserve the D. S. 0. more than I do, and my dear 
Bullion I was never afflicted with modesty. All I meant 
was that the chances in the war were a matter of 
accident. ’ ’ 

Bullion shook his head. 

“And the world is perfectly right now that it is 

[ 47 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


all over and done with to forget its temporary emo¬ 
tions,” went on Roger. “ There are a few people like 
yourself who stick to past impressions but the public 
in general on both sides of the Atlantic, and in every 
country, are quite content to let the gallant Lieutenant- 
Colonel from the ranks revert to his job of selling 
vegetables from a barrow, and to watch with a touch 
of painful resignation the poor fellow getting what he 
can in a pawn-shop for his V. C., his Croix de Guerre, 
or his Congressional medal. Why not? Why make a 
tragedy of it? It’s all in the game. A man is like the 
sea; he changes every day, certainly every week, and 
the public at large are just the individual grown big.” 

“The same Roger Drew. The same old stuff.” 

“I wish I could be as serious as you, Bullion. You 
are the man who gets there. No unexpected angles 
for you.” 

“In other words,” said Bullion, “the diligent 
plodder, the good little boy.” 

In the days that ensued, Roger Drew and Fred 
Bullion were drawn together more and more, for there 
is nothing like a steamer voyage to force two indi¬ 
viduals with a good many things in common to a proper 
understanding of each other. 

Roger learned how Sir John Magnet, a millionaire 
had given Bullion a chance in his office before the war, 
and he came to see how the young man’s quick grasp, 
power of initiative and balance had been noted and 
realized by Magnet. While nominally Magnet’s secre¬ 
tary, Bullion was a director in two of his companies 
and more or less his confidant. It was an achievement 
for so young a man. 


[ 48 ] 


OH THOSE WOMEN! 


“You were born in America?” said Roger to him 
one evening in the smoking room as they sat sipping 
their coffee. 

“Yes, and I am still an American.” 

“That’s queer. You went to Cambridge, and you 
are spending your life in England.” 

“My people sent me to school on the other side, 
and I went up to Cambridge and did pretty well there 
as you know, and then came business and the war, and 
I suppose I’m about as English as they make them 
now. ’ ’ 

“And still an American citizen.” 

“My associations and my friends are all in Eng¬ 
land, and yet I have never been able to get away from 
old Ohio where I was born and spent my early boyhood. 
It’s curious. I just don’t want to change my citizen¬ 
ship. Perhaps one of these days I shall. ’ ’ 

Roger surveyed him through a cloud of cigarette 
smoke. 

“You fill me with admiration,” he said. 

The two men discussed the traits of Britain and 
America with an originality and a frankness which 
would have surprised and shocked some of their com¬ 
patriots on both sides. It would sometimes have been 
hard to tell which was the Englishman and which was 
the American. They had many contacts. On women, 
as is the way of bachelors they were light and dogmatic. 

“English women,” said Bullion, “are always good 
wives and occasionally good companions, whereas 
American women are sometimes good wives but always 
excellent companions. ’ ’ 

“I have no vast acquaintance with wives,” said 
[ 49 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


Roger, “but as a philosopher I have noted some char¬ 
acteristics in the single women.” 

“You bet you have!” said Bullion. 

“They fall in love quicker than the English,” said 
Roger. 

“And fall out quicker,” said Bullion. “Though I 
don’t suppose,” bowing to his companion, “you’ve had 
much of that experience.” 

“Steward, another whiskey and soda for Mr. 
Bullion. ’ ’ 

“Simply compelled,” said Bullion, deprecatingly. 

“They have great courage in their emotions, the 
American women. They don’t hesitate, they don’t 
palter. You know where you are with them.” 

“But is that altogether an attraction?” said 
Bullion. 44 The pleasant doubt and probing, the gentle 
anxious investigation, and then the final summit of 
achievement. And besides, I am not sure that the 
American woman is so easily read. ’ ’ 

“Why should she trouble to conceal her feelings, 
her opinions in the country which is women ridden?” 

“Women ridden?” said Bullion. 

“Look at prohibition. If you have ever descended 
to any dalliance, my boy, you will know their petulance, 
their atmosphere of indulgence, a direct inheritance of 
pioneer times in a pioneer country. ’ ’ 

“How does that go with your idea of their being 
better companions than English women?” 

“They have sparkle where English women have 
sympathy, they talk where English women are silent, 
they lift dull men to life.” 

4 4 Oh, dull men! ’ ’ 


[ 50 ] 


OH THOSE WOMEN! 


“And have you never realized how dull we men 
are, Bullion?” 

“I have been bored to death by many women,” 
said the other. 

“Hopeless. I don’t believe you would be fasci¬ 
nated by a Cleopatra.” 

“Never met the type, but I’m still young.” 

“It’s obvious you didn’t become engaged on this 
trip of yours to America, Bullion.” 

“Other things to think of. I’ve been out to Ohio 
to see my mother who is coming over to me in Eng¬ 
land in six months ’ time. She travelled up from Ohio 
with me to see me off. ’ ’ 

“Ohio?” said Roger. 

“Yes, I was reared out near Cincinnati.” 

Roger fell silent. The reminder was not a sooth¬ 
ing one. 

“Talking of American girls,” said Bullion, “I 
heard an amusing incident from my mother at break¬ 
fast time on the morning we sailed. She was at the 
Battersea in Fifth Avenue. My mother, on the day 
before had done some courtesy for an elderly lady 
stopping there with her daughter, and the daughter 
was a chatty, little kind of creature, and at tea in the 
afternoon she was talking about men just like you have 
been talking about women. ’ ’ 

“Oh, was she?” said Roger. 

“You said just now that American girls had the 
advantage of directness in their associations with men, 
that they were not in the habit of fooling.” 

“There are exceptions,” said Roger. 

[5i] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DEEW 


“I wouldn’t lay down any general rules if I were 
you. We are all children in these affairs.” 

“Get on with the story,” said Roger. “What 
about this girl. What was her trouble?” 

“Nothing serious, just a comic little situation, 
that’s all. She and her mother went to the Battersea, 
and in a few hours linked up with another family from 
Cincinnati who had just arrived there, not close friends 
but people to whom they had been introduced sometime 
ago. There was a girl in the second party, and the two 
girls got together and what do you think they found 
out ? They discovered they had both been flirting with 
the same man in Cincinnati, who was in love with both 
of them, and who would have married either of them 
at the drop of a handkerchief. Family circumstances 
had brought them to New York, and they had to make 
the best of it. Each of these girls had been worried 
to death, until they had the opportunity of talking to 
each other, because this man would inevitably think 
that he had a right to press each of them to marry. 
Each had spent an anxious hour or two hunting plans 
to avoid seeing him alone. Funny wasn’t it? They 
had just been amusing themselves with him in a flirta¬ 
tious affectionate kind of way. Of course he was an 
egotistical fool to have been taken in by them.” 

“You meet fools like that all over the place,” said 
Roger. “What do you say to another whiskey and 
soda.” 


[ 52 ] 


CHAPTER VII 
Journeying 


S ROGER had foreseen, the voyage steadied his 



outlook, and, as perspective adjusted itself, his 


enthusiasm for the future developed. He saw 
more clearly with each succeeding day the opportuni¬ 
ties which the business for Arthur Dixon would place 
in his hands. 

A strong purpose puts wine into life, and Roger 
found himself mildly surprised that he should not have 
struggled sooner towards big and direct action. He 
was nearer happiness than he had ever been. His 
nerves sang; he was conscious of the power within him; 
satisfaction wrapped him like a mantle. He did him¬ 
self something less than justice by contempt for his 
past aimlessness, the desultory months and years; and 
as for the Cincinnati girls (and all the other girls) 
they sank to trivialities soon to obliterate themselves 
from memory. At last he had a chance for solid 
achievement, and he hungered for the streets and offices 
of London, his field of effort. And he was in this mood 
when grinning Fate, whose favors had been so long 
withheld, gave him a glimpse of still another world of 
stimulating and novel interest. 

In his new experience Roger felt like a man who 
on the tideless sea of life suddenly finds himself swept 
along by a strong current, rejoicing in the fresh 
and vital impulse, and while exhilarated in his good 


[ 53 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


fortune, perceives, to his amazement, that he is being 
impelled towards a freshening breeze which might in 
itself have carried him to port. 

Roger had lounged through the human species 
carelessly, but at long intervals he had been roused by 
a flash of character good or bad, and it was this per¬ 
ception for personality which was the open door for 
his fresh discovery. And, as is the way with so many 
of the accidents which mark a real happening in the 
lives of men and women, Roger found his new interest 
by a combination of common-places quite insignificant 
in themselves, —a burst of fine weather, a chance re¬ 
mark of Bullion’s, one of the odd hobbies in his own 
possession. 

The “Latian” was within two days of Queenstown 
before the weather cleared up sufficiently to permit the 
inevitable concert on the ship, which had been talked of 
but unformulated because half the passengers were 
keeping their cabins in the unusually rough voyage. 
The sudden sunshine loosed a lot of energy, and young 
men with sheets of note paper and pencils canvassed 
the deck chairs on the lee side, invaded card games in 
the smoking-room, and disturbed middle-aged ladies 
who were busily writing long-delayed letters in the 
lounge. Presently Bullion and Roger at shuffle-board 
on the upper deck were encompassed. 

“My parlor trick,” said Bullion, “consists of two 
songs which my friends and relatives are thoroughly 
sick of hearing. I am anxious for new audiences. I 
will contribute them with pleasure. ’ 9 

Roger protested his inability. He had a voice like 
a bull frog, he said, and the notes on a piece of music 

[ 54 ] 


JOURNEYING 


were as incomprehensible to him as the dots in a 
decimal sum. 

“You can recite or tell stories or something. ” 

“Alas no,” said Roger, 

“I can not sing 
To dance I am ashamed 
In all the lighter things of life 
I’m halt and dumb and maimed.” 

“What about this ventriloquism?” said Bullion. 
‘ ‘ Mr. Grey is an amateur ventriloquist,’ ’ he explained 
to the surrounding group. 

There was general shout at the discovery of a 
treasure of so unusual a nature. 

“All right put me down for ten minutes,” he said 
resignedly. And a little later he went with Bullion 
to the latter’s cabin, as he explained it, to arrange his 
“stunts.” He aroused a boyish interest in his com¬ 
panion by speaking with his lips motionless and prac¬ 
tically closed. 

“You’re good,” said Bullion admiringly. “You’ll 
be the hit of the evening. How do you manage it ? ” 

“The old trick. Expectation of the audience.” 

“But how do you throw your voice?” 

“There is no such thing as throwing the voice. 
Just speak with your lips still, and then by your eyes 
or some gesture indicate where the sound apparently 
comes from. On top of that deepen your voice or 
heighten it to take on various tones. Mimicry, that’s 
all.” 

“You’ve had some side lines in your time.” 

[ 55 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“Life is one vast education/’ said Roger. 

The concert that evening was the usual mediocre 
success, and Roger’s part of it was certainly the star 
performance. He had secured a doll from the barber’s 
shop on board, and put it through many vocal exer¬ 
cises. Roger was vigorously applauded, and had to go 
on beyond his allowed time. Afterwards he was the 
centre of a group of men in the smoking-room who 
wanted him to repeat some of his experiments. He 
shook his head and demanded a game of bridge, which, 
after many protestations, was accorded to him. 

At one of the side tables in the dining saloon there 
had been an appreciative auditor unnoted by Roger. 
Joan Defensor, a careful nurse of her seasick mother, 
had seen little of the passengers in the course of the 
voyage and if her eyes had lighted on Roger at any 
time during the week he was no more than one of the 
crowd. She had not even known his name. When he 
stood up in the evening before the people assembled 
in the dining saloon, and began his gravely humorous 
patter and presently went on with his imitations, she 
was pleasantly arrested. She joined in the laughter 
and the applause. It was a pleasing sense of recogni¬ 
tion — though she had never seen the man — which 
gave her first a feeling of understanding. There war 
nothing specially handsome about this Mr. George 
Grey — she was past school-girlish preferences — but 
there was an appeal in the slim figure, the dark irregu¬ 
lar hair, the big humorous mouth, and the melancholy 
violet eyes. He was a curiosity, but a rather mysteri¬ 
ous one; there was much in him concealed — she felt 
this at the same time that she had the sensation of 

[ 56 ] 


JOURNEYING 


something like kinship. His voice when he spoke, deep 
and vibrant, struck chords in her. Subsequently in 
talking to her mother she described him as quaint and 
aloof, although he was the funny man of the evening. 

“I have heard of this personal magnetism/’ she 
laughed, “and I really think he exerted it over me.” 

“You haven’t met him before?” said Mrs. 
Defensor. 

“No,” said Joan. “Shall probably never see him 
again except on the ship before we reach Liverpool. 
I dare say at close quarters he is uninteresting. So 
it’s good we’re near the end of the voyage. No illusion 
to be shattered.” 

Joan was quite sincere in these words to her 
mother, and yet it would be a charitable judge who said 
there was no streak of curiosity in the motive which 
took Joan out next morning on deck for an unaccus¬ 
tomed walk, although the sight of southern Ireland 
gave her an excuse for leaning over the rail with the 
other sightseers. She was mildly moved to see what 
the man looked like in the open air. And, being a 
young woman of direct impulses and without the taint 
of sentimentalism, she went up to look at him as she 
might have gone up to look at an author, or a painter, 
or an actor, who had temporarily seized her attention. 
Joan was not to know the forces that were at work. 

Bullion and Roger Drew were standing near the 
smoking-room door chatting together as they watched 
the swerving gulls and the Tuskar Lighthouse in the 
distance. 

“Who is that tall girl along there?” said Roger. 

Bullion turned lazily and he paused a second before 

[ 57 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


he answered. “It’s a Miss Joan Defensor/’ he 
said, “her mother’s been sick during the trip, that’s 
why we haven’t seen much of her. I know them 
slightly.” 

“Defensor?” said Roger. His tone was non-com¬ 
mittal and so was his face. Then he added, “She’s 
striking. ’ ’ 

“Yes,” said Bullion. If Roger had not been occu¬ 
pied by some far-away thought, he would have noticed 
that his companion was taciturn. 

“Let’s take a turn round the deck,” said Roger. 

As they sauntered along Roger said, “You’ll be 
careful not to drop a word as to my real name, Bullion. 
I don’t want any of the people on board at all to get 
a hint. ’ ’ 

“Why certainly,” said Bullion in surprise, “what 
a queer old fish you are! ’ ’ 

Alas, for the puny precautions of the disturbed 
masculine mind Joan Defensor, seeing the two men 
disappear, turned and walked towards the entrance of 
the companionway. And Roger and Bullion complet¬ 
ing the circle of the deck came face to face with her. 
She smiled recognition to Bullion, and Roger had no 
time to draw back. 

“Isn’t this ripping?” said Bullion, “the gulls, 
and sunshine, and the old land?” 

“And you an American!” said Joan. 

Bullion laughed a little nervously. “Let me intro¬ 
duce my friend Mr. Grey.” Roger and the girl bowed 
to each other. 

“I know Mr. Grey a little after hearing him last 
night,” said Joan. 


[ 58 ] 


JOURNEYING 


Roger lifted his eyebrows. “It has been always 
my lot to give that kind of first impression.” 

“It interested me very much. I wish my mother 
could have been there. ’’ 

“You’ll puff him up with conceit,” said Bullion. 
“He’s too inflated already.” 

“Friends of long standing,” said Joan. 

“On the contrary I have known him long enough 
to mistrust him, and what’s worse I’ve got to leave 
him here for a few minutes to blow his own trumpet. 
I have to get off a wireless message. I’ll be back 
before long.” 

As Bullion went off towards the purser’s office 
Roger wondered at his withdrawal, had a suspicion of 
restraint, a glimmering that the young American was 
not entirely himself in spite of his bantering words. It 
was but a surprised idea, quickly vanishing under the 
continuing conversation of the girl beside him. He 
was puzzling himself as to whether he liked her, and 
it was because he realized he could not understand her 
power. He had met pretty girls, beautiful girls before, 
but their non-understanding, or their virtual sub¬ 
serviency, had quickly destroyed any deep or strong 
interest. He had an uncanny feeling that Joan Defen¬ 
sor was his superior. 

“You might have been a professional, you did it 
so well.” 

“A real compliment,” said Roger. “You saw last 
night my one accomplishment. I just love to show off 
with it. Now and again it comes in useful. When I 
was at school for instance I did it at a soldiers’ charity 
concert once, and made a distinguished general laugh.” 

[ 59 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“You were in the war?” 

“With several million others. I did not do any 
ventriloquism there.” 

For the first time Joan had not a ready response, 
and after a hesitation she said, “I suppose you had 
exciting times. Did you see much fighting? Were you 
hurt at all? Yes, I know you were wounded.” 

“You noticed that little limp of mine,” said Roger. 
“It’s the reminder I’ve got left. I’m lucky compared 
with a good many. But these are old topics now. ” He 
half rose from his chair. “That man Bullion has not 
come back. I suppose I had better go and find him.” 

“What part of France were you in?” said Joan 
passing over his remark. 

“The Ypres salient and on the Somme, pretty big 
sections where so much of the British work was done. ’ ’ 

“I had a brother out there,” said Joan suddenly. 

Roger cursed himself for not having left her be¬ 
fore. This was just the kind of situation likely to 
arise with such a girl. He was compelled to say some¬ 
thing however obvious, and though Roger had lied 
often and thoroughly he was angry at the deception 
which now lay in front of him. 

“There were one or two Defensors at the front. 
No connection I believe. I met a Lieutenant Richard 
Defensor.” 

Joan with eyes alight turned on him. 

“That was my brother.” 

“Saw him two or three times. I was sent along 
the line on a special job and came in touch with his lot. 
Did he get through?” 

“He was killed,” said Joan. 

[ 6 °] 


JOURNEYING 


Roger kept silent for a second or two, and then 
he said, “Pm sorry.” 

“Mr. Grey my mother would have liked to meet 
you. Any officer who knew Dick is such a comfort.” 

“I’m afraid I couldn’t say much. It was just a 
casual meeting. One came across so many fellows. I 
do remember he was young and keen looking. He 
seemed most likeable.” 

“Did you meet a Captain Drew?” 

“A wild kind of chap. Yes I remember him.” 

“He was very brave.” 

“They were all brave.” 

“We are specially interested in him because of 
my brother.’ ’ 

“You had no other brothers?” 

“No, he was all we possessed.” 

There was no escape now and Roger knew it. He 
sat in silence listening to a simple little tale, none the 
less painful that its like has been heard in ten thousand 
homes. Nor did the relation of it seem at all out of 
place to Roger. Later when he looked back he thought 
it rather strange that a girl of her type should have 
gone on to tell him the story but as he sat there by 
her side it seemed quite natural, indeed unavoidable. 

“My brother Richard,” said Joan, “was seventeen 
when the war broke out and he was at a public school. 
He falsified his age and enlisted, and nearly broke my 
mother’s heart. My mother was not unpatriotic or 
anything of that kind, but it was too terrible that her 
only boy should go to the war. Everybody loved 
Richard. He was so bright and sparkling, and a very 
affectionate son. He got through all right at first and 

[61] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


was rapidly promoted. Then for eighteen months we 
lived in alternate spasms of dread and relief. It seemed 
to ns that he was unfortunate in being in so much of 
the fighting, and then you know what that meant to a 
mother and a sister/’ 

Roger’s eyes contracted a little. 

“Go on,” he said, “tell me some more.” 

“He was in the Ypres salient and one night he 
and a brother officer this Captain Drew and three men 
were cut off by the enemy. The three men were killed, 
my brother was seriously wounded and Captain Drew 
took him in his arms and carried him back under fire 
trying to protect my brother’s body from further in¬ 
juries. He himself was knocked over by a piece of 
shell just before they reached the British lines. They 
were near enough to be brought in without further 
hurt. It was not any good my brother was dead.” 

The girl’s eyes were set as she stared out across 
the sea. Roger said nothing. 

“His death put the light out of my mother’s life. 
She has had only one object after the first great shock 
was over and that was to find this brother officer of 
his.” 

“Curious I should have known him,” said Roger. 
“He disappeared, did he?” 

“Yes. After the war was over we tried hard to 
get in touch with him, and have never ceased to try 
since. We know a good deal about him because my 
brother used to write and tell us of his friendship. He 
was a light hearted man, but always most kind to my 
brother and very fond of him. Richard used to describe 
him.” 


[62] 


JOURNEYING 


“What do yon know about this Captain Drew?” 

“He had a queer sense of humor. He sometimes 
drank too much. He was quite careless of himself, and 
yet my brother said that the men of his regiment liked 
him better than any other officer they had. And I 
don’t care how bad he was we just want to find him. 
That has been our only real interest since the war was 
over. It ought to have been easy, of course, but when 
he left the army we found out from his friends that he 
went abroad, and he seems to have led a life of adven¬ 
ture. He just avoided everybody. Even his people 
don’t know where he is.” 

Roger’s voice was a little hard when he said, “I 
can understand the feelings of your mother and your¬ 
self, Miss Defensor, and I am sure that he would like 
to know of your gratitude, but I fancy he was a rather 
wild, flighty kind of a man, and perhaps the memory 
of him absent is better for you both than the reality.” 

Joan Defensor looked at him. “You can’t know 
what we feel, Mr. Grey” she said. “You don’t know 
what my brother meant to us. You never read his let¬ 
ters about this man.” 

When the girl had gone below Roger leaned over 
the rail looking out across the water with unseeing 
eyes. Before him was a morass of uneven ground, a 
little hillcock, scattered posts, and remnants of wire, 
and pools of muddy water faintly to be realized in the 
darkness of the night. There was the rattle of machine 
gun fire, coming from either friends or enemies. The 
horizon on the left was stabbed with flashes of light. 
He saw a huddled form at his feet, and he remembered 
the dull weakness of himself as he lifted the boy and 

[63] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


started forward in the final effort. He remembered, 
too, how he sank into the mud, how the noise grew 
louder, and how inert and limp was the burden he 
strove to carry to safety. “Dick had hard luck,” he 
said to himself. 

As Roger stared across the water at the Irish coast 
the picture moulded itself afresh and he saw some¬ 
thing of his dead friend in Joan Defensor. The chang¬ 
ing light of the eyes, the quick resolute look about the 
lips, the swing of rather square shoulders. Yet these 
reminders of Dick Defensor were but details in a new 
discovery. He had often wondered if there was a man 
or woman who could touch him to real companionship. 
Something in Joan Defensor raised his spirit. She 
soothed him. She might almost be one to whom he 
could yield himself in frankness. He had pleasant sen¬ 
sations at the sound of her voice, and knew that in her 
presence he rose to a plane of thought and emotion 
hitherto beyond him. With a slow hard effort he 
stiffened himself. More than ever was there the neces¬ 
sity that he should not be known, that the identity of 
Roger Drew should be hidden. At least he would con¬ 
serve a fragment of his self-respect. 

Roger went down to find Bullion. 

“What did you cut away for?” he said. “She 
must have thought it odd. ’’ 

Bullion laid his hand on his friend’s shoulder. 
“I’ve known the Defensors off and on for some little 
while,” he said. “Will you forgive me if I say that I 
couldn’t bear to see her so interested in you this morn¬ 
ing, Roger. I haven’t said a word, but I’m in danger 
of making a fool of myself about that girl.” 

[64] 


JOURNEYING 


Roger laughed with unusual and almost boisterous 
heartiness. 

“My dear fellow,” he said, “I congratulate you. 
She is a lovely girl. Don’t be so nervous. Go right in 
and win.” 


[65] 


CHAPTER VIII 

Business First 


HAT Roger came to tell Bullion the cause of his 



journey to England was the result of neither 


A accident nor impulse; the confidence was given 
deliberately by Roger as part of his campaign, and 
indeed he bluntly said that no friendship in itself 
would have led to the revelation. He saw a chance. 
Bullion’s association with Sir John Magnet was a fact 
which had become increasingly important to Roger as 
the voyage had progressed. 

It was on the day before the meeting with Joan 
Defensor that Roger had said, “Tell me more about 
Magnet.’ ’ 

“He’s a big man, with defects which are magnified 
by his enemies, and with qualities which are sometimes 
sneered at. ’ ’ 

“How is great success brought about? Is there 
some hidden secret? Some of us unsuccessful ones 
dwell on the qualification of luck. Others have a re¬ 
ligious regard for what they call the master mind.” 

“Life, is like a bridge game,” said Bullion. “If 
you are clever and possess the right temperament you 
have one of the factors, but that, does not mean that 
you are necessarily going to succeed. Remarkable 
cards provide the other element. You have to combine 
rare ability and rare luck in order to do the big thing. ’ ’ 

“What is he like?” 


[66] 


BUSINESS FIRST 


“ Magnet is a middle-aged, tall, thin, placid-looking 
fellow with volcanoes inside him. He started with 
nothing except imagination and will power, struck it 
lucky in his twentieth year, and has never looked back. 
He had a controlling interest in a cotton mill when he 
was twenty-eight, was chairman of a series of popular 
London restaurants at thirty. In the next ten years, 
although never very much in the public eye, he had be¬ 
come a big figure in the financial world. He is now one of 
the ten men who control the cotton industry of Britain. 
He has interests in docks and ship building companies 
which made him a separate fortune in the war. He has 
holdings in three or four other directions, and I don’t 
know any of them that’s not making money, except 
those in connection with ship building and his news¬ 
paper. Have you heard that he has recently become 
the principal proprietor of the London ‘Daily Spur?’ ” 

“Magnet to me is just a name. No one knows much 
about him except that he is very rich. I would like to 
ascertain one thing. Is he interested at all in automo¬ 
biles?” 

“He holds a block of shares in the Sparks Splurge 
concern which as you know makes the most expensive 
cars in the world. Is your business something to do 
with cars ? ’ ’ 

Roger nodded. 

‘ 1 1 want to ask your opinion. Do you think Magnet 
would be interested in an invention which has been dis¬ 
covered by one of the leading motor concerns of the 
United States, and will presently be used by machines 
everywhere ? ’ ’ 

‘‘ Of course he would. But Roger, inventions don’t 
[ 67 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OP ROGER DREW 

always turn out that way, although they look like it 
at first.’’ 

“Pm not at all concerned. What I would like to 
be satisfied about is first whether Magnet would and 
could handle the proposition and secondly, much more 
important to me, whether he is a straight man to deal 
with, one whose word may be relied on, and who is 
incapable of what I may call the big trickery of busi¬ 
ness.” 

“I wouldn’t like to guarantee the moral worth of 
any millionaire living,” said Bullion. “There is in¬ 
trigue and scheming without end in detail, and often 
enough it’s a case of wit against wit. You have to face 
the facts, Roger. At the same time Magnet is certainly 
as good as any one else on either side of the Atlantic. 
And I have never known him guilty of mean shadiness 
such as you indicate. He is unpleasant at times, a 
regular bully, intolerant and can often be as brutal as 
the devil. But I have known him to be very generous 
indeed. Make up your mind that in all bigger opera¬ 
tions you’ve got to take a chance. ’ ’ 

“I hear a lot about the American business man 
as compared with the English business man. Is there 
a separate cult?” 

“The Americans are bolder, the English more 
cautiously calculating. The Americans can afford to 
take chances; the English can not always afford to 
do so.” 

“As to honesty?” 

“My experience is the bigger the man the better 
he is.” 

“I can see you are not a socialist.” 

[ 68 ] 


BUSINESS FIRST 


“Honesty pays in the bigger fields, not always in 
the smaller ones. There is a greater tradition of fair 
dealing in the English commercial world, and it is of 
enormous importance, produces an atmosphere. At 
the same time a good American is the same as a good 
Englishman.’ ’ 

“Americans don’t fight for farthings as we do.” 

“They don’t have to. It is not generosity, it’s 
just business.” 

“I know a big strong American who trusts me and 
I trust him.” 

“Magnet’s not a bad specimen, this side.” 

‘ ‘ How is it you get on so well with him. ’ ’ 

“I like the English life. I make my home in Eng¬ 
land, hut I have some American characteristics, some 
initiative, a capacity for continuing and high pressure 
work, unconventionality, and a freedom from inherited 
routine.” 

“Yes, but that doesn’t cover all the features,” 
said Roger ruminatively. “There’s a good deal more 
in you than that. ’ ’ 

He balanced his words as he spoke, and he looked 
at Bullion steadily. 

“I’m wondering if Magnet is the one man to he 
trusted whom I am in search of. I think I’m going to 
risk it. ’ ’ 

When Bullion had heard the story he said, “You ’re 
not giving away anything and you can’t, because you 
haven’t got it in your head to give, and before the 
bargain is completed Magnet has got to go to America 
and see the whole thing for himself. You may depend 
upon it that your friend Dixon over there will be quite 

[ 69 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


capable of taking care of himself and of his property 
when the time comes. If yonr discovery will do what 
yon claim for it you are on the track of a fortune for 
yourself, and it undoubtedly means tremendous things 
for those who take it up. But I should have to be con¬ 
vinced, and I am sure Magnet will say the same thing, 
that these new tires will act in the way you have de¬ 
scribed, and that there are no loopholes, such for in¬ 
stance, as the exhaustion of their peculiar quality after 
a short while. There are many other possibilities 
which would have to be guarded against. You are not 
an expert you know, Roger.’’ 

“I have faith that Dixon and his associates have 
given the invention every kind of test to meet objec¬ 
tions that might be put up against it. ’ ’ 

“In that case, we will get to work without losing 
an hour,” said Bullion. “Consider yourself to have 
an appointment with Magnet on the day after our ar¬ 
rival. I am going to send a wireless to him. I shall 
summarize all you have told me. If it is worth handling 
it’s big enough to do very thoroughly and very 
promptly. ’ ’ 


[7o] 


CHAPTER IX 


Sir John Magnet 


A T ELEVEN o’clock on the morning after he 
landed Roger went to see Sir John Magnet at 
office of the “Daily Spur,” where the financier 
temporarily established himself in an effort to bring 
his new property to a paying basis. He had to reach 
Magnet through Bullion’s room. 

“You’ll be present?” said Roger. 

“Magnet does a new thing like this entirely him¬ 
self, and it’s possible I may know nothing at all about 
it until the whole matter is completed. Come right in 
to Sir John.” 

As Roger stepped through the doorway he had 
before him the picture of a tall clean-limbed man with 
gentle eyes. Here was no fierce eagle-like individual, 
with talons sharpened, and fierce mien, instead there 
was graciousness which in itself was a welcome. Sir 
John Magnet moved forward quickly, shook hands with 
Roger and said, “I’m glad to see you Mr. Drew. Years 
ago when I was a young man I had a slight acquaint¬ 
ance with your father in the City, and it is good to 
meet his son. Come and sit down over here at my 
desk.” 

Roger responded instantly to such sunshine, and 
he showed himself the cordial genial man of affairs, 
who might well have been a millionaire himself for the 
freedom and equality with which he talked to Magnet. 
[7i] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


He found none of the reluctance within him which he 
had anticipated; it was as easy to give explanations to 
the financier as it had been to Bullion. Magnet asked 
many questions, probing questions — as to the kind 
of trials to which the new tires had been subjected, the 
road surfaces on which they had been tried, the cars 
to which they had been fitted, the personality of the 
directors in New York, the standing of the company 
there, and finally he studied with a good deal of atten¬ 
tion the document giving the terms of the British 
rights. 

“Of course I am not going to commit myself to 
accepting these figures, Mr. Drew,” he said, “you 
mustn’t expect that.’ ’ 

“Those are the terms I am entrusted with,” said 
Roger. 

“If I judge Mr. Dixon aright,” said Magnet, “it 
probably will not be difficult to come to an adjustment 
with him should occasion demand it. Whether the 
occasion will demand it or not remains to be seen. 
Bullion told you, did he not, that I was interested in 
automobiles? As a matter of fact it goes a little be¬ 
yond that point, for I have been the user of machines 
from the first year of their introduction, and you must 
take it that I can talk intelligently to automobile en¬ 
gineers.” 

“You are the very man we want,” said Roger 
quietly. 

“I think I am, that is if your invention is as good 
as Mr. Dixon thinks it is. I want to tell you that we 
have had the thought of some device of this kind, and 
that our scientists have been working on it. I do not 

[ 72 ] 


SIR JOHN MAGNET 


know how far they have progressed, and it would be 
necessary for me to submit your discovery for exam¬ 
ination to find out its value on the technical side. Will 
you have a sample of the rubber sent to me?” 

“I have a complete tire packed up in the hall down 
stairs.” 

“ Excellent. Tell them to send it up to me when 
you go out.’ ’ 

“By tomorrow I’ll have a car fitted with the tires 
and you can experiment for yourself.” 

“Yes, I should like to do that as soon as possible.” 

“Should I bring the car round tomorrow?” 

“No, send it. I don’t quite know my arrange¬ 
ments, but at some period tomorrow I will drive it 
myself, and with the assistance of buckets of water — 
unless the weather comes to our assistance, — I will 
make preliminary tests . 9 9 

Roger left Sir John Magnet aglow with the feeling 
that he had done the right thing. He sent a long cable 
to Dixon in New York telling him the position. 

Roger had no immediate reply from Dixon, and 
there was no cause for one. It was clear the American, 
pleased as he could hardly fail to be at the message, 
must wait for developments. Meanwhile Roger lost no 
opportunity afforded him by the friendliness of Mag¬ 
net, and he saw a good deal of the financier. 

He drove with him to his country place in Kent, 
and met him again both at the newspaper office and in 
his City office — a big suite of rooms in New Broad 
Street. Magnet quickly acknowledged that the first 
test of the new tires was satisfactory, but explained 
that he and those associated with him could not afford 

[ 73 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


to take risks until every kind of doubt had been elimi¬ 
nated, and he must have a report from his technical 
experts before he went further into the business. 

In the course of a week’s acquaintanceship Roger 
saw several sides of a strong man; to Roger himself 
Magnet was by turns comradely, explanatory, and fre¬ 
quently charming. He had a lively tongue and many 
good stories. More than once he recalled his fleeting 
acquaintance with Roger’s father. Incidentally he 
gave Roger a little well-meant advice about his own 
future. Roger came to the decision that Bullion, in 
order to prevent disappointment, had over stressed 
Magnet’s less likeable characteristics — and this not¬ 
withstanding the fact that he once saw Magnet in a 
sudden gale of passion for no apparent reason with a 
departmental manager at the City office, heard him use 
rather a nasty sneer towards Russell, the editor of the 
‘ 4 Daily Spur.” After all Magnet did not set out to be 
a saint. And the strong impulses which had led him 
up to his achievements were not to be repressed in 
Sunday school fashion. Roger had plenty of excuses 
for him, and they were quite reasonable ones too. 

He was mystified and a little shaken when, just a 
week after he arrived in England, he had a cable from 
Dixon with the two words, ‘ 4 Watch him. ’ ’ For the first 
time he had a shade of doubt as to Dixon’s inevitable 
judgment. Dixon had apparently been misled by the 
rumors about Magnet, the suggestion as to unscrupu¬ 
lousness and hard dealing which were always around a 
successful millionaire, but even while Roger told him¬ 
self this he had a touch of discomfort from the cable. 
It was unlike Dixon to express doubt or fear without 

[ 74 ] 


SIR JOHN MAGNET 


the soundest reason; he was never impulsive, and 
Roger had judged him to be a man who, in the presence 
of danger, would rather repress a word of alarm than 
utter it, Dixon was essentially a man of action. The 
only explanation was that he wished to impress caution 
in handling affairs with a man of Magnet’s power and 
ruthlessness. At the same time Roger felt that the 
American owing to lack of opportunities had not 
properly pictured the financier. Alas, for the frailty 
of an adventurer’s judgment in matters outside the 
human heart. 

Twenty-four hours had helped to quiet still further 
the misgivings of Roger when the earthquake came. 
It was in the shape of a letter from Magnet. This was 
the communication which took the ground from under 
Roger’s feet. 

“Dear Mr. Drew:— 

It is with regret I have to say I can not proceed 
further with the negotiations for your new automo¬ 
bile tire. As I explained our own experts were busy 
with experiments, and I have now received reports 
from Scotland stating that a few weeks ago they 
themselves hit upon the formula for a manufactured 
rubber of similar qualities. I do not know whether 
it is exactly the same invention, but as the results 
are identical you will understand that we hope to 
utilize our own product. 

Yours very sincerely, 

John Magnet.” 

Roger read the letter through twice before he fully 
comprehended its import and when he had done so, 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


liis first impression was that Magnet desired to try a 
practical joke. The thing was too tragic to he true. 
He looked at the letter again, and found it was written 
on the specially headed note paper which Magnet used 
from the “Daily Spur” office. And then with a sense 
of deadening reality, he recognized the genuineness of 
the signature ‘ 4 John Magnet”; he had seen it several 
times in the past week. 

Roger took a deep breath, and there came to him 
an impression of the past, of one night in a foray in 
“no man’s land” when the noise of machine gun fire 
betokened an unexpected enemy move which meant en¬ 
circlement, the dull realization that everything was at 
an end. He sensed again his helplessness in the bullet 
swept area, his mingled resentment and resignation at 
the fore-ordainment and the hard inevitability of it all. 
And then came the wound, and darkness-. 

Roger’s sensation for a little was that of numb¬ 
ness, a reaction to his personal loss, then the full reach 
of the injury grew on him as he saw that not only had 
he lost his one great chance in life hut also had failed 
in the trust given him by his friend in New York — a 
man who had broken routine, and taken risks in his 
confidence in Roger’s individuality, his caution, his 
energy, his grip. 

He laid the letter on his dressing table lighted his 
pipe and walked up and down the room. The cruel 
cleverness of Magnet was what held his imagination. 
He began to see how the tragedy had shaped itself; 
Bullion’s wireless message from the “Latian” had set 
the financier at work — exactly how, Roger did not 
trouble himself to guess. And when Magnet had se- 

[ 76 ] 



SIR JOHN MAGNET 


cured all lie could from the unsuspecting representative 
of Dixon he had planned his plot, and everything being 
complete, had made his stroke. Roger began to under¬ 
stand why Sir John Magnet had attained great fortune 
and influence; and then in a curiously impersonal way 
he saw the unfairness of the man, not so much from his 
methods, as from his original decision to take ad¬ 
vantage of the situation. To Roger the prospect had 
meant his one great opportunity in life, had meant a 
fortune; to Magnet the affair meant a small addition 
to wealth that was already vast. Success in his device 
would at best be a passing satisfaction, just a few 
hours of play in the great game. Within a month new 
plans would have made the present scheme merely the 
occasion for a smile, a recollection of how efficiency had 
once again been triumphant — and what was an inci¬ 
dent to Magnet would remain ruin to Roger. Roger 
permitted himself for a minute an outside view of 
Magnet’s cold-bloodedness, his capacity for detach¬ 
ment. Most individuals were handicapped by some 
streak of human sentiment; Magnet was specially 
gifted for he did not mind being cruel without reason. 
Roger with a hard grin admitted the financier’s bril¬ 
liance ; it was admirable if looked at from the appropri¬ 
ate angle. His nice manners, his friendliness, came 
back to Roger, a true master in the great art of bluff! 

Roger was at his most poignant moment with the 
thought of Dixon. He would look on Roger, if not as a 
faithless steward, at least as a pathetically incompe¬ 
tent one. Roger realized the finer sides of Dixon, and 
for the first time he was in a quiver of passion. 

Within an hour he saw where his immediate duty 

[ 77 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


lay, and lie went out and cabled Magnet’s letter word 
by word to Dixon in New York. He slept little that 
night, and was down to breakfast early in the morning. 
At eight o’clock a cable from Dixon arrived, and this 
is what it contained: — 

“He must have had news of your mission before 
you reached England because on the day you landed 
we found a new employee in the Jersey factory trying 
to get into the private office apparently with a view 
to finding out our plans. He was probably but one 
of several who were put on to the job in various direc¬ 
tions. We have no evidence as to how the secret was 
obtained, but it is clear that it has been stolen from 
us in some kind of way. Don’t let it worry you too 
much, for no fault attaches to yourself and I should 
have acted exactly as you have done. We are not going 
to sit down under it and the best lawyers and detectives 
on both sides are going to give him a fight. You are 
still in our employ. Hold yourself in readiness for 
any action that you may be directed to take. ’ ’ 

The morning had brought a measure of recovery 
to Roger, and the cable from Dixon helped him further. 
He prepared to go to the City, and as a preliminary he 
went up to his room and changed his clothes, dressed 
himself with more than usual care. He was of the type 
who like to be especially well groomed in times of 
emergency. 


[78] 


CHAPTER X 

Moral and Intellectual Damage 

D IXON’S generous words from America eased 
Roger’s spirit a little; there was yet some hope 
on the business side, and, with this assuaging 
knowledge, he felt swelling within him the personal 
resentment at Magnet. Roger had been conquered with 
some of his own weapons — an unforgivable sin to any 
sensitive man. Magnet’s calculated suavity, his as¬ 
sumed comradeship of manner, his air of confidential 
trust — these things burned Roger like hot iron. He 
had been toyed with, and then with a light gesture, 
betrayed. How Magnet must have laughed at his 
simplicity, his boyish directness, his earnestness in 
seeking opportunity. Child’s play for a man like 
Magnet! 

Roger faced it all without wincing, but he was ex¬ 
periencing the steady accretion of hate, not the hate 
which could be satisfied with an outburst of violence, 
a torrent of words, a thrashing for the offender, but 
a hate which required for appeasement the well-planned 
application of injury most likely to be damaging to self 
esteem, to be destructive of vanity — and accompanied 
with blighting ridicule, and only incidentally financial 
loss. Roger had his enemy measured. He took count 
of himself, too, and he faced the future squarely. In 
this cold fervour which was holding him material suc¬ 
cess, business prowess, had sunk to a regardless thing. 

[79] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


He was destined to be poor, that was obvious, but be 
could starve along somehow, and he had now an object 
which transcended other ambitions. To get level with 
this man Magnet would be a possession for always. 
Roger felt a rising of spirit, for he was in effect a 
desperate man, and when desperate he had special 
qualifications. 

It was thus that Roger, with a white rosebud in 
his buttonhole, presented himself in the entrance hall 
of the “Daily Spur,” sent up his name to Bullion, and 
took a seat in the little glass-partitioned hall facing 
the lift. Illustrated papers lay on the table in front 
of him, and he pulled one of them towards him, and 
glanced at it with sprightly interest, although as a mat¬ 
ter of fact he had the journal upside down. He heard 
the lift descending and pushed the journal away from 
him. And then he saw step out into the hall Mrs. 
Defensor and Joan. Instantly in a burst of assumed 
interest he had raised the opened magazine in front 
of him so that his face was concealed, and his relief 
was deep as their car rolled away from the front of 
the building. A minute later a uniformed messenger 
boy from upstairs came to him with the information 
that Bullion was at the City office of Magnet. 

“He only comes here when Sir John is here,” vol¬ 
unteered the boy. 

“Is Sir John at the City office!” 

“I don’t know, sir. I expect he is.” 

Roger went up into Fleet Street, mounted an omni¬ 
bus, and ten minutes later got off at the Bank, and 
walked along to New Broad Street. There was a car 
outside the entrance of Magnet’s building and as Roger 

[80] 


MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL DAMAGE 


passed he recognized it as the one which had taken 
the two ladies from the ‘ ‘ Daily Spnr’ ’ office. He per¬ 
mitted himself a moment’s speculation, and then went 
up in the lift to the third floor, the whole of which was 
occupied by Magnet’s offices. Walking along the corri¬ 
dor, Roger passed doors on the glass panels of which 
were inscribed the names of various staple industries 
— cotton, iron, ships, were those he noticed, and then 
he came to a panel with Bullion’s name on it. Roger 
opened it, and a minute later was shaking hands with 
his friend. 

“Come along into the sanctum,” said Bullion. 
“Sit down, and make yourself at home. Have a ciga¬ 
rette ? Awful sorry to hear that Magnet failed you on 
the tire proposition.” 

Roger threw out his hands in a gesture of despair. 
“Luck!” he said. “I’ve got to go ahead with other 
people. I don’t think Magnet treated me very well.” 

“Believe me, Roger, Magnet’s experts in Scotland 
were experimenting on this line. That wasn’t bogey. 
You may have hurried things up a bit. Remember I 
warned you about Magnet, and if I had known what I 
know now I don’t think I would have sent him that 
wireless from the steamer.” 

“Forget it,” said Roger. “I’m going to look to 
the future. I’m holding myself in reserve for anything 
Dixon wants, and meanwhile I’m going to push ahead 
and try to make myself acquainted with all kinds of 
business. I’ve missed out once; it isn’t going to hap¬ 
pen again.” 

“Perhaps this affair won’t turn out so badly as 
it looks.” 


[ 81 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OP ROGER DREW 


“I can’t trust Magnet any more.” 

“He sticks to his story with me, Roger. Not a 
hint of any sharp practice and he made a kindly refer¬ 
ence to yourself, and said he recognized it was hard 
luck.” 

“He’s a pretty clever man,” said Roger thought¬ 
fully. 

“You have not to take his moods too seriously.” 

“No, I should be more concerned about his 
actions.” 

Bullion pointed to the door of an adjoining room 
from which the muffled sound of a rapidly rising voice 
could be heard. 

“He’s on the rampage about something in there 
now. Hello, here he comes.” 

The door opened, and Roger had a picture of 
Magnet with lowered eyebrows, and shoulders canted 
forward. 

“Bullion—” 

He stopped at the sight of Roger, gave him a cor¬ 
roding glance, and then said, “Well!” 

Many of those in his employment knew that tone 
of voice and the savage mind behind it — a combination 
which scattered their wits and left them helpless. 
Roger would not have made a good servant of Sir John 
Magnet. He looked at the financier with serene geni¬ 
ality. “It is not very well,” he said with a kind of 
humorous resignation in his voice, “at least not 
for me.” 

Bullion turned to him. “I think you had better 
go Drew.” 


[82] 


MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL DAMAGE 

“Go!” exclaimed Magnet. “What is he doing 
here?” 

“What do yon mean by your intrusion? You are 
here for no good purpose. You are spying out my 
business. You are taking advantage of my kindness 
to you last week.” 

His voice shook with anger. 

“I wrote and told you I had no use for you and 
your project. What do you mean by forcing your way 
in?” 

He raised a minatory forefinger. 

“Be careful of yourself. One false step and I’ll 
give you in charge of the police. You are here seeking 
to find out certain things that you have no right to 
know. Don’t try any of your confounded Yankee 
tricks on me.” 

Bullion had a deep feeling of compassion for his 
unhappy friend, who had first suffered heavy loss, and 
then had to submit to a ferocious bullying. He hated 
to see him humiliated, and he gave what might be 
called a mental gasp as he noticed the demeanor of 
Roger. The latter was eyeing Magnet with little cor¬ 
rugations of the forehead which might have passed 
for a smile, but his eyes were quite expressionless, 
and he raised himself on his toes as though lost in 
reflection. 

“Most interesting,” he said softly, and his eyes 
never left Magnet’s face. “It can not be habitual.” 

Magnet stared at him as if he thought the young 
man were crazy. 

“Steady yourself or you will step over the crack 
one of these days.” 

“Insolent— ” began Magnet. 

[83] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“On the contrary/’ said Roger swiftly, “with a 
deep respect for yon which I shall manifest as the 
opportunity serves. 1 ’ 

He turned to Bullion. “One word before I leave 
this home of harmony.” 

Bullion looked at Magnet, but the latter had swung 
tempestuously toward his own room. 

“Has he gone to telephone for a policeman?” 
said Roger hilariously. 

“My dear chap,” said Bullion, “for Heaven’s 
sake he careful. You don’t want to make him your 
enemy.” 

“A quite unnecessary process. It wasn’t that I 
wanted to speak to you about. The Defensors are 
here.” 

“I’ve got them waiting in another room now. I 
was going in just as you came.” 

“I don’t want them to know anything about me. 
I tried to help young Dick Defensor who was killed in 
an engagement at the front. They are anxious to show 
their gratitude to me. I don’t want it. I want it less 
than ever now. I don’t want them to know anything 
about me. Please let them be ignorant of the fact that 
I came over on the ‘Latian.’ Will you do that?” 

“Of course I will,” said Bullion, who was pre¬ 
pared to promise anything to get his friend out of the 
office quickly. 

“I wanted to talk to you, — ’’began Roger. 

“I can’t stop now, with the old man like he is. 
Dine with me tonight — Cafe Royal at seven thirty.” 

“Good enough,” said Roger. “I’ll meet you 
there — if you should chance to survive the day,” He 

[84] 


MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL DAMAGE 

nodded towards Magneto room as lie picked up his 
hat. 

A minute later Bullion was apologizing to Mrs. 
Defensor and her daughter for his delay. 

“I suppose it’s a liberty to come and bother you in 
business hours, Mr. Bullion," said Joan. “Please put 
the blame on mother." 

“I’m more likely to thank her. IPs good to see 
you both. You narrowly escaped a call yesterday." 

“There mother. Your talk of Mr. Bullion yester¬ 
day afternoon was an inspiration." 

“We are anxious to know if you could tell us any¬ 
thing about Mr. Grey," said Mrs. Defensor. “I was so 
sorry I didn't meet him on the steamer. He knew my 
son Richard." 

Bullion nodded understanding^. 

“You know Richard was killed in the war," said 
Joan. “A fellow officer made a brave attempt to save 
him and we have always wanted to get in touch, and 
somehow we haven't been able to. On the ‘Latian' 
Mr. Grey told me that he was in the army, and he had 
met my brother, and he had also been acquainted with 
the officer we are in search of. It may be that he can 
not help us much, but there is just the possibility. He 
may be the very man who can put us on the track.'' 

“What was the name of the officer who tried to 
rescue your brother?" 

i 1 Captain Roger Drew.'' 

“Ah," said Bullion thoughtfully, as if searching 
his mind. “I'm in rather an awkward position. I can 
not tell you where Mr. Grey is now, but I may be able 
to a little later. I'll have to let you into a secret. My 

[85] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


friend is a business man and came over to complete 
some important negotiations, and in order to save him¬ 
self from being bothered he travelled on the steamer 
under an assumed name. I know his real name, but 
I’m not at liberty to tell you what it is.” 

“That’s curious,” said the frank Joan. 

“Of course we do not wish to inconvenience your 
friend,” said Mrs. Defensor. “All we are anxious 
about is to find Captain Roger Drew. I can not tell 
you how important it is to us. Could you get a letter 
to your friend?” 

“I might be able to. He is travelling at the 
moment, but if you will write him here I will do what 
I can.” 

The two ladies rose to go. 

“Anything about my son means a great deal,” 
said Mrs. Defensor, “I know you will forgive us troub¬ 
ling you.” 

“It will be a real happiness if I can help you. I 
believe I can.” 

Bullion meant what he said, but he felt himself' 
a particularly mean type of hypocrite as he showed 
the ladies out. 

“Come and see us soon,” said Joan with out¬ 
stretched hand. 


[86] 


CHAPTER XI 
Spying Out the Land 

^HE Defensors came to get the help of Mr. 

I George Grey in finding Captain Drew,” said 
Bullion as he and Roger made their way to a 
table in the Cafe Royal that evening. 

“I thought so. I trust you were discreet.” 

“I lied, if that’s what you mean.” 

‘ ‘ Excellent. Yon ’re a good fellow, Bullion. ’ ’ 

There was no more said about the Defensors till 
the dinner was well advanced, and till there had been 
a good deal of talk on less immediate matters. Roger 
was a mixture of oddity and gaiety, and his open- 
hearted mood led him, among other things, to the story 
of the Cincinnati girls. 

“Serves you darned well right,” said Bullion shak¬ 
ing with merriment. 

Roger spoke sadly. “I’m a confiding and deluded 
creature,” he said. “I’m fated. ‘ ’Tis Providence that 
shapes our ends.’ ” 

“There is another quotation an even older one, ‘Be 
sure your sin will find you out. ’ ’ ’ 

“Guilty: but there should be mercy for the weak. 
Helpless footling creatures, men.” 

“Roger, I wonder you have never fallen really in 
love. ’ ’ 

The chuckle of Roger was deep seated. 

[' 87 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OP ROGER DREW 


“Dear old serious Bullion; but that’s why you are 
successful.” 

“It won’t do; I know you better than you imagine. 
Heavens, if you should some day fall in love, well I 
can see you!” 

“Divide your pity between me and the girl,” 
laughed Roger. “You’re in sentimental mood. You—” 

“I just hated to lie about you to the Defensors 
today. Felt like a cur. ’ ’ 

The smile dropped from Roger’s eyes. 

“I know. It’s a shame from your point of view, 
laddie. I’ll put it all right for you some day.” 

“Why the deuce don’t you tell them who you are! 
For the life of me I can’t see your reasons.” 

“I just hate to be mollycoddled, Bullion. I’m sure 
they are very sweet, and all that, and if things were 
different I would like to meet Dick Defensor’s people. 
But not just now. I’ve had a blow in this rubber busi¬ 
ness and I’ve got to battle up again somehow. Some 
day when I’m doing pretty well I’ll seek out the Defen¬ 
sors and make my amends. ” 

“They want you badly.” 

“I couldn’t stand it just now. Let it go for the 
present. Say I’m abroad, say I’m in India, if you see 
them again. One of these days you shall be the god 
from the machine and produce me, if you want to.” 

“I don’t know what they’ll think of me for deceiv¬ 
ing them.” 

“Joan Defensor will think no worse of you for 
standing by a friend. ’ ’ 

“I wish I was confident. I’m just neutral to her 
now. I may never be anything else. ’ ’ 

[88] 


SPYING OUT THE LAND 


“Why has she never married?” asked Roger sud¬ 
denly. 

“Don’t know. I suppose she never met any one 
she cared for. She’s no ordinary girl. There have 
been plenty after her according to reports. The last 
rumor is about Sydenham Curfew the Home Secre¬ 
tary. 9 9 

“An old man?” 

“No. He’s about forty-three. He’s got on swiftly. 
He has a place near theirs down in Surrey. ’ ’ 

‘She won’t marry any Home Secretary,” said 
Roger decisively. 

“I reckon she’d marry a Prime Minister or a clerk 
in a bank if she wanted to. ’ ’ 

“Aye, aye,” said Roger sagely. “But I imagine 
she is going to marry a rising young fellow with a good 
heart and sound prospects and his name is Bullion.” 

“It’s early days. She knows me but slightly.” 

“You’ll see,” said Roger prophetically. 

“It’s good to hear. I’m not so confident. Mean¬ 
while I wish you’d make these women happy.” 

“Can’t be done in the way you want.” 

“The old lady, too, makes me think of my own 
mother. Why you could be another son in that family 
if you wanted to be.” 

“I don’t want to be,” said Roger. “Who are the 
Defensors anyway? They’ve got money haven’t they?” 

“That’s only part of it. They are wealthy, but 
they are much prouder of their family than of their 
money. The family goes back to goodness knows 
when. ’’ Bullion smiled, “As an American that appeals 
to me.” 


[891 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“As an Englishman,’’ said Roger, “it leaves me 
stone cold.” 

“Yon are an incorrigible, nngracions scallawag 
who doesn’t deserve to have good things happen to 
him. ’ ’ 

“So, so,” said Roger. 

“Mrs. Defensor’s great nncle was a Prime Min¬ 
ister of Britain in spacious mid-Victorian times.” 

“I think I heard something of that kind from 
Dick. ’ ’ 

“George Defensor who died a dozen years ago was 
of an old South of England family and their estate in 
Surrey is a princely place.” 

6 ‘ They live in Surrey then ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ They have a small house in town too. Oh, Roger 
what chances you are missing. ’ ’ 

“I must have an unfortunate disposition,” said 
Roger. “Perhaps I’ll change it some day. Now then 
tell me something about the good gentleman who nearly 
hoofed me out of your office this morning.” 

“He was quite himself again this afternoon. Look 
here Roger, don’t you take that business this morning 
too seriously.” 

“It wouldn’t do any good. Just for the moment 
he roused in me some of the primitive instincts of 
aboriginal man. ’ ’ 

“That has happened to a lot of people. He is just 
a big boy in some ways.” 

“I must be forgiven for thinking him rather un¬ 
pleasant, but he is certainly the kind of fellow who 
matters.” 

“I’m going to make him help you yet, Roger.” 

[ 90 ] 


SPYING OUT THE LAND 


1 ‘ Optimist , 19 said Roger. 

“His moods don’t mean anything to me. Let me 
tell you he can make a man in a day . 9 9 

“And break a man too.” 

“Naturally.” 

“Is he wonderfully successful in business? Is he 
making a lot of money ? 9 9 

“Piles. He’s worked up a little just now because 
he has a losing game on his hands, just an incidental 
thing, but he can’t bear the idea of failure. He’s 
worked on the 4 Spur’ like a nigger; that’s Magnet 
all over. ’ ’ 

“I shan’t be broken hearted if he fails in some¬ 
thing,’’said Roger. 

“You’re still sore, but there’ll come a day yet 
when you’ll be grateful to Magnet. Mark my words.” 

“Just this evening I’m more concerned about 
something that is giving him trouble, ’ ’ said Roger with 
a laugh, “what’s the story?” 

“It’s annoyance more than trouble. He has stormed 
his way through to success so often, that obstacles or 
failures bring him into a mood you saw him in this 
morning. I told you the various industrial enterprises 
to which he has set his hand. Some of them he has 
made into paying properties just by his power of busi¬ 
ness organization, and financial organizations, too. A 
man with big business interests is pretty much in the 
position of a banker.” 

“It’s a great life in some ways.” 

“When a man has accumulated unassailable for¬ 
tune in the shape of money his joy is in the possession 
of the power the money gives. Latterly Magnet has 
[9i] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


seen that men with far less money have far more 
power. He is taking steps to remedy the position. He 
has bought the widely circulated but financially unsuc¬ 
cessful ‘Daily Spur/ and he’s going to use it to im¬ 
press himself on wider spheres than hitherto. At the 
moment, for example, he is attacking a Cabinet Min¬ 
ister, the one I’m specially interested in, the Home 
Secretary . Just an idea, nothing more. He wants to 
get a hold on public opinion in some way. Meanwhile 
he is riled beyond measure that the paper should be 
loosing money. He knows little or nothing about the 
technicalities of newspaper production, but of course 
he is a thoroughly good business man, and he has the 
notion that all business is pretty much alike in funda¬ 
mentals.” 

“Vanity battling with cupidity.” 

“He isn’t mercenary in one sense; he just hates 
to be associated with a losing proposition.” 

“If I’m a judge the people in the office are having 
an uncomfortable time.” 

“Yes. When Magnet concentrates on a business 
everybody feels his vital force, and he doesn’t spare 
those who are round him. But mind this when he has 
pulled things through, and the business is prosperous, 
everybody joins in the prosperity. The fellows at the 
4 Daily Spur’ office have got that before them if 
they’ve sense enough to see it.” 

“Raising their salaries?” 

“More than that. He will give the editor shares, 
very likely made him a director. One or two of the 
other departmental chiefs might easily be put on the 
board also.” 


[ 92 ] 


SPYING OUT THE LAND 


6 ‘ Meanwhile, a severe probationary period. ’ ’ 

“I guess so,” said Bullion. “A newspaper is an 
awfully complicated and trying proposition. There are 
some incidental weekly publications connected with the 
firm. The whole thing is just an exasperating puzzle 
for the time being.” 

“I’d like to see over the workings of a newspaper 
office one of these times when Magnet is not around—.” 

“We get a breathing spell from tomorrow on,” 
said Bullion. “He leaves by the eleven o’clock train 
for Paris and he will be away for a fortnight or more. 
I don’t suffer much from him, but his mere presence is 
a high pressure gauge, and to tell the truth I don’t have 
a very happy time when I see friends like yourself 
coming under his lash. They don’t all take it as you 
did.” 

“I can quite believe that,” said Roger. 

“He’ll leave the office at about a quarter past ten 
tomorrow morning, ’ ’ said Bullion. ‘ 4 Come in any time 
after that, and make yourself at home. I ’ll show you 
the mystery of modern newspaper production, and 
we ’ll have lunch together. ’ ’ 

Roger went back to his hotel with a pleasant feel¬ 
ing of accomplishment within him. He had learned 
some of Magnet’s weak points, and he revelled in them. 

Once the big lighted eyes of Joan Defensor came 
to him, but he switched himself back to reality with a 
mental snort. 


[ 93 ] 


CHAPTER XII 
Doings at the “Daily Spur” 


S IR JOHN MAGNET sitting at his desk next morn¬ 
ing, scanning some figures with narrowed eyes 
and mouth set square, presented signals of a mood 
which caused members of his staff who came with new 
ideas to decide suddenly that their suggestions could 
wait. And yet when he looked up at Bullion seated on 
the other side of the desk his voice was unruffled. “You 
stay here and keep a general eye on things while I’m 
away. The City people will telephone me every morn¬ 
ing about affairs there. You had better get on the wire 
yourself if there is any special point as far as the 
paper is concerned. I shall always be in the hotel 
between nine and ten in the morning.” 

Bullion nodded. 

“It’s a serious thing,” said Magnet, taking up one 
of the sheets of paper on the desk before him and look¬ 
ing at the figures on it. “Here is a paper with a circu¬ 
lation of nearly half a million a day and it is losing 
between seven hundred and eight hundred pounds a 
week. That ought not to be. Keep your mind on it 
while I am away. It’s a hard proposition.” 

‘*We must increase the revenue from advertise¬ 
ments. That is really the only line. ’ ’ 

“May be that’s right,” said Magnet. 

He touched an electric bell and a messenger 
came in. 


[ 94 ] 


DOINGS AT THE “DAILY SPUR” 


“Send Mr. Clark, the advertisement manager, 
to me.” 

Magnet rose from his chair, and went over to a 
heap of that morning’s newspapers on a side table. He 
flicked over their pages swiftly, and when Clark the 
advertisement manager, a little thin faced man of 
fifty, came into the room he had a copy of one of the 
papers in his hand, studying the back page. 

“Clark, I see that the 4 Morning Light’ has a page 
of Rigson real estate display this morning and we 
didn’t get it.” 

“They are extremely hard people to deal with, 
wanted fifteen percent off. ’ ’ 

“And yet the ‘Morning Light’ got it.” 

“Yes, but that — ” 

“Always ‘yes but,’ ” snapped Magnet. “I am 
surrounded by ‘yes-buts’ in this office. The ‘yes-buts’ 
would ruin any business.” 

His voice took on a calm note. “No doubt it was 
clever work by the ‘Morning Light’ people.” 

“I did all that was possible to do,” said Clark, 

“Do you know the advertisement manager on the 
‘Morning Light’!” asked Magnet. 

“Yes, I know him; Meakins is his name.” 

“He’s a good man,” said Magnet. “I wonder 
what we could get him for!” 

Clark went away with some practical suggestions 
of Magnet’s in his ears, and in his mind an indignant 
wonderment as to whether Magnet had meant what 
he said. 

“I think you’ll have to reorganize the department 
altogether,” said Bullion. 

[ 95 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“It’s tlie first thing to be done when I get back.” 
Magnet sat down at his desk. “We can’t reduce ex¬ 
penses in any big way can we?” 

“There are wages and salaries,” said Bullion, 
“but it’s dangerous to touch them.” 

“Magnet frowned. “It’s fatal economy to make 
such reduction. Indeed I’m not certain but what I’ll 
give Russell some shares. He seems a good fellow.” 

“He is strong and energetic,” agreed Bullion. 

“Then there is the question of paper. We haven’t 
got the reports from our accountant about the Water¬ 
side Paper Mills have we ? ” 

“Shan’t have them for two or three days yet.” 

“If it is a sound proposition I shall clinch when 
I come back. I’ll form a new company for this paper 
business. It’s good in itself, and besides that we can 
knock off between two and three hundred pounds of 
our loss by making our own paper.” 

i ‘ They want a big price, ’ ’ said Bullion. 

“Oh, of course the two hundred thousand pounds 
asked is ridiculous. It may be worth a hundred and 
fifty. We ’ll wait till we get the figures. ’ ’ 

Magnet took down his hat and coat from the peg 
behind the door. 

“Tell Russell to keep on with his criticism of the 
Home Secretary on that Housing Bill. I was talking 
with Bolstrode the other day, and the ‘Daily Telegram’ 
is linking up with us. ’ ’ 

“I hear the Home Secretary is very wroth.” 

“Pompous fool,” said Magnet. “Perhaps, how¬ 
ever, we had better keep off the personal side. I may 

[ 96 ] 


DOINGS AT THE “DAILY SPUR” 


have to make use of him some day. Will you tell 
Russell ?” 

“All right, I’ll see him when he comes in.” 

“Goodbye,” said Magnet. “Don’t forget about 
telephoning me if there should be anything special.” 

When he had gone Bullion went over to the desk, 
and cleared up the papers scattered over it, and then 
he lit a cigarette, walked into the adjoining room where 
there were two stenographers, and dictated some let¬ 
ters. He rang up the managing editor’s room, and 
found Russell had not yet arrived, and so he talked to 
Fore, the news editor, and conveyed Magnet’s wishes 
to him about the Home Secretary. 

“Pity,” said Fore, “I had some good stuff today. 
I was going to roast him good and proper. ” 

“Cut it out,” said Bullion. “Just give the hard 
news, and leave the comment to the leader page. ’ ’ 

Bullion was turning himself to some accounts, 
which Magnet had left for his attention, when a boy 
came up from downstairs to say Roger Drew had 
called. Bullion sent for him to come up. 

With the diligence and the energy of the enthusi¬ 
ast, Roger had been early in the neighborhood of the 
“Daily Spur” office and from the window of a res¬ 
taurant opposite, a somewhat protracted breakfast 
had enabled him to watch the exit of Sir John Magnet. 
He guessed that the financier was to make a call at his 
City office, since his car started eastward instead of 
turning round by the Embankment on the way to 
Victoria. Presently Bullion confirmed his conjecture. 

Roger went up to Magnet’s room with a strange 
general purpose, but no definite plan. He had learned 

[ 97 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


something about the newspaper, and desired if possible 
to increase his knowledge to the point where he could 
take some damaging action against the proprietor — 
the governing consideration being that he should do as 
much harm to Magnet as was possible in the limited 
period at his disposal. A fortnight was a space which 
had obvious prospects. To make the chance, to seize 
the skirts of chance, that was his policy, and as each 
day would now be valuable he was thinking of asking 
Bullion if it would be feasible for him to write some 
light articles on his travels for the paper. This would 
give him an introduction to Russell, the editor, and 
secure for him the right of entry to the office for the 
couple of weeks. It would be hard indeed if in that 
time he could not find opening for a thrust at Magnet. 

Roger was not at all troubled by tremors as to the 
honorable nature of his undertaking, because morality 
of the forgiving type had no part in his composition. 
Frequently impetuous he was curiously insensitive in 
certain kinds of emergencies, and this was one of them. 
Abasement was in him at the indignity he had suffered 
from Magnet, and his self respect craved for adjust¬ 
ment. He would have laughed bitterly at any ques¬ 
tioning of his method. He was moreover not in the 
least concerned in the fact that he was playing traitor 
to the kindliness of his friend Bullion. Bullion was 
part of Magnet, sharing in his successes, endorsing his 
procedures, and though he apparently had had nothing 
to do with the trick which robbed the American com¬ 
pany of the property entrusted to Roger yet he would 
presently benefit by the same robbery. Some incon¬ 
venience, some annoyance, a touch of disgust, they 
[ 98 ] 


DOINGS AT THE “DAILY SPUR” 


were not too heavy a price for Bullion to pay for asso¬ 
ciation with Magnet. And Roger was going to use him. 
He was the one instrument to hand. 

“You missed the old man by a close shave,” said 
Bullion when Roger came in. 

“Watched him go. I took no chances of butting 
into the good gentleman after my last encounter.” 

“Probably he would have been as sweet as sugar 
to you.” 

“No chance of that for me,” said Roger. 

“You can sit in his chair,” said Bullion motion¬ 
ing Roger over to the proprietor’s desk, “and you may 
even smoke one of his cigarettes from the box there 
while I go down stairs and see if Russell the editor 
has come in. I have to talk with him for a few minutes. ” 

Roger made himself comfortable, and as Bullion 
went out he said, “I rather fancy this job. What 
about me as the great brain force in control?” 

Later on Roger recalled that flippancy, and gravely 
asked himself before the mirror in his bedroom 
whether he had been suddenly gifted with the power 
of prophecy. 

With his feet irreverently tossed up on to Magnet’s 
desk, Roger was glancing through the morning’s paper 
when there was a ring at the telephone by his elbow. 
Almost mechanically he took off the receiver to answer 
the call, and he heard a man’s deep voice saying, “Is 
that Sir John Magnet?” 

With nerves on edge Roger was unconsciously 
ready for some apt accident, some lucky combination, 
to rush him into surprising and devastating action. In 
his search for methods of reprisal there had never 

[ 99 ] 



THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


occurred the idea of the impersonation of Sir John 
Magnet. And yet so swift are the processes of mind 
and heart in times of subconscious excitement, that the 
question of this unknown man over the telephone was 
like some chemical element which suddenly resolves 
and fixes a chaotic mixture into a clear definite and dis¬ 
tinctive whole. Roger’s purpose had formed and 
hardened itself in the fraction of time between the 
words from the stranger and his own reply. His gift 
of mimicry, the absence of Bullion, the departure of 
Magnet, the scope for the immediate future all these 
things came upon him like a vision. 

It was with some disguise of his own tones that he 
answered, “Yes this is Sir John Magnet’s office. Who 
wants him?” 

“One moment please, Mr. Carter of the Waterside 
Paper Mills wishes to speak to Sir John.” There was 
a pause of a few seconds, and then came another voice. 

“Mr. Carter speaking. Is that you Sir John?” 

In the deep clear cut note of the financier Roger 
said, ‘ ‘ Speaking. Is that you Mr. Carter ? ’ ’ 

“How do you do, Sir John? I would like to know 
if you have made a decision about the purchase. We 
have a board meeting this afternoon.” 

Roger took a chance as to the relevance of his 
reply. 

“Tell them, yes, with some modifications. Of 
course it’s a big price. ’ ’ 

“It’s a big business.” 

“Well we won’t quarrel about that. I’ve made 
my decision. There was one point I wanted to raise. 
Just run over the terms.” 


[IOO] 


DOINGS AT THE “DAILY SPUR” 


6 ‘ Two hundred thousand pounds, a quarter of the 
preferred stock, and two seats on the new board which 
shall have not more than five members.” 

“I remember now. It’s about representation on 
the board. I think you are only entitled to one seat 
instead of two. I ’ll pay the price if you see to that. ’ ’ 

“I can’t promise offhand but it seems reasonable, 
and I’ll talk to them this afternoon.” 

“If you fix the thing make an appointment for the 
lawyers. ’ ’ 

“Would it not be better for me to come and see 
you yourself?” 

“I’m leaving for Paris immediately. Communi¬ 
cate with me there at the Grand Hotel. I shall be back 
in two weeks. I want the whole affair in train by then.” 

“Certainly. Perhaps since the matter is so im¬ 
portant I may come over to Paris and see you. ’ ’ 

“Good idea, but don’t come before the end of this 
week. I shall be very busy for a few days.” 

‘ ‘ All right. I ’ll meet your convenience. ’ ’ 

“Very well, say Saturday. I’m busy now getting 
ready to leave.” Roger snapped the telephone down 
in just the abrupt manner he imagined Sir John Magnet 
would have done in the circumstances. 


[IOI] 


CHAPTER XIII 

Plunging Deeper 

R OGER with nerves a-tingle did some quick think¬ 
ing in the next few minutes. He had struck at 
a venture, with a success which might have been 
disconcerting to some but which to Roger was rich with 
inspiration. The field of action was revealed, and his 
spirit bounded upward. He took a swift glance at the 
possibilities. The Waterside Paper Mills project was 
but the beginning, and his imagination was racing 
ahead from the moment he hung up the telephone 
receiver. 

He looked at the little gilt clock on the mantel¬ 
piece, and saw the time was twenty-eight minutes past 
ten, and he knew that the train left Victoria for Paris 
at eleven. To get to Victoria, to telephone an impor¬ 
tant message or two, and to do it before the train left 
for Paris, this was his immediate task. Roger went 
through the door of Magnet’s room to the outer office 
where the two girl stenographers were at work. They 
looked up as he entered. “Will you tell Mr. Bullion 
that I have gone back to my hotel for some papers 
which I forgot to bring along with me. Tell him I’ll 
be back again within an hour.” 

He hurried into the corridor, praying Fate that he 
might not meet Bullion on the way down, and there was 
boyish exultation in him when he reached the street 
without notice. He put his hat firmly on his head, and 

[ 102 ] 


PLUNGING DEEPER 


raced to the underground station at Blackfriars Bridge, 
and a few minutes later was in the train on his way 
to Victoria. 

There are a multiplicity of telephones at Victoria 
Station and Roger, arriving at about eighteen minutes 
to eleven, took care to secure one at some distance from 
the platform, in order to avert, as far as he might he, 
the risk of encountering Magnet or being perceived 
by him. When he had obtained connection with the 
“Daily Spur” private exchange he asked not for 
Bullion but for Russell the editor. He had prepared 
the way by telling the telephone operator in the proper 
tone of voice that it was Sir John who wished to speak 
to Russell, and he was rewarded by a quick linking up, 
and the sound of the editor’s voice with a touch of 
deference in it. ‘ Ms that you Sir John?” 

“Russell, I have been turning things over in my 
mind in the last half an hour, and I have had a talk with 
a friend of mine here, who happens to be travelling on 
the same train with me to Paris. Have you a piece of 
paper handy, and a pencil? I want you to take down 
some instructions.” 

“I’m quite ready,” said the editor, “go ahead.” 

“In the first place I want to change the policy 
about the Home Secretary. You must not attack Mr. 
Curfew personally, I also want to change our policy 
towards his new Bill. Tonight have written a leading 
article which shall pave the way for a complete change 
of policy on the next morning. Indicate tonight that 
modifications in the Bill meet our approval. You can 
find what reasons you like. See that they are plausible 
ones. Then tomorrow come out flat-footed in support 
[103] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


of Curfew and his Bill. Do you understand all that, 
and have you got it down ? ’ ’ 

“Yes; all right/’ 

“I was talking to Bullion about the matter this 
morning. I want you to discuss it with him. Tell him 
there is business behind. Get him to help you in any 
way he sees fit. Is that clear ? ’ ’ 

“Yes. I ’ll go up to him.’’ 

“Wait a minute. If Mr. Bolstrode the proprietor 
of the 4 Daily Telegram’ gets in touch with you about 
our change of policy make your apologies on my be¬ 
half. You know we had rather joined together in this 
campaign on the Home Secretary, and I don’t want to 
seem discourteous. I am sending Bolstrode a telegram 
from here. I haven’t time to ring him up, and talk the 
matter over. If you have any doubts accept Bullion’s 
judgment. Tell Bullion to ring me up the day after 
tomorrow at my Paris hotel. Get that?” 

“Yes.” 

“One thing more. Take this down carefully. At 
the end of this week the whole of the editorial staff are 
to have a ten percent increase.” 

“Ten percent?” repeated the astounded Russell. 

“Yes. Ten percent,” snapped Magnet. “Isn’t it 
plain? Are your ears stopped up?” 

“Sorry, Sir John.” 

“Mind you I’m not doing this out of charity. I’m 
spending more money because I don’t want to lose so 
much. You fellows have got to make the paper pay.” 

“I’ll give the right impression to all the staff, Sir 
John. Oh, here’s Mr. Bullion coming into the room 
just now. Would you like to speak to him?” 

[>4] 


PLUNGING DEEPER 


“Yes quick IVe only got a few minutes. Bullion 
is that you? I have told Russell to change our policy 
with regard to Curfew and to give the editorial staff 
a ten percent rise. He has taken a shorthand note, and 
will let you have a memorandum. Tell Russell Pm 
going to put him on the board of directors.” 

“Is there any special reason for doing all this so 
quickly?” 

“Very special. I can’t stop to explain. See what 
I’ve dictated to Russell. Get me the day after tomor¬ 
row at the Paris hotel. I must hurry off now. ’ ’ 

Roger hung up the receiver. He had a gratifying 
sense of work well done. 

A visit to a neighboring telegraph office, and the 
dispatch of a telegram to Bolstrode occupied another 
ten minutes, and by this time the Paris train was on 
the move out of the station. 

“Life after all has some little satisfactions,” 
Roger said to himself as he went down to the under¬ 
ground station. 

Half an hour later he was back in Magnet’s room 
at the “Daily Spur” to find his friend Bullion with 
contracted brow looking at the memorandum he had 
received from Russell. 

“I popped back to the hotel, to get some articles 
I wrote for the New York papers,” said Roger. “I 
wanted you to see them. Perhaps under another name 
I might be able to do something for the paper.” He 
drew from his pocket an envelope with some cuttings. 

“I’ll see what can be done,” said Bullion, “but 
I’m puzzling my head about another matter altogether 
just now.” 


Los] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


44 What’s up?” said Roger. 

“I was telling you this morning about our policy 
with the Home Secretary. Here’s the old man tele¬ 
phoning Russell from Victoria altering everything. 
Goodness knows what his game is. He may have met 
Curfew in the station for all I know.” 

In a sentence or two he told Roger of the instruc¬ 
tions transmitted over the telephone. 

44 Why he didn’t telephone me instead of Russell 
in the first place I don’t know. That’s just like him. 
He’ll go over the head of one of his chiefs, and you can 
never tell where you are. I came into the room just 
in time to get his few final words. I ought to have 
known the way his mind was working from his conver¬ 
sation this morning. I told you about it. Why he should 
have jumped so suddenly is one of those mysteries 
which is continually occurring. ’ ’ 

44 Perhaps he’ll change his mind again when he 
gets to Paris,” said Roger. 

4 4 Not he. However sudden are his decisions he 
sticks to them. I think he is crazy to put up the salaries 
here at present. I don’t see how its going to help 
him in the least. Giving Russell a place on the board 
is the one sensible thing in his whole message so far 
as I can see.” 

44 I wouldn’t have your job, Bullion, for twenty 
thousand pounds a year. There would be moments 
when for the sake of one hearty kick at my proprietor 
I would sacrifice my whole fortune present and future. ” 

44 You don’t get him right,” said Bullion. 44 He is 
queer but he is a genius. Now I’ll bet anything that 
though his message this morning seems so erratic there 

[106] 


PLUNGING DEEPER 


is hard good business involved, and that the result will 
more than justify it. I have a blind faith in his judg¬ 
ment. I’m hound to have. I have seen what’s hap¬ 
pened in the past.” 

Roger listened to his friend with cordial interest, 
and, here and there, made a helpful suggestion, and all 
the while as the talk went on his ears were pricked for 
the sound of the telephone bell. He was anxious that 
Bolstrode should ring up without much delay for he 
had a fear that the proprietor of the “Daily Telegram” 
might take it into his head to come round and see 
Bullion at the office. He distrusted the possibilities of 
a personal interview of that kind. He grew more and 
more impatient. 

It was about half past twelve when Bullion went 
out of the room on some errand, and Roger decided 
hastily on a hazardous step. Better the risks he knew 
than those he knew not of. He called up the “ Daily 
Telegram” and asked for Bolstrode. Directly the lat¬ 
ter spoke he expunged Roger’s fears. ‘ 1 Only just come 
in,” he said. “I was late this morning. I gathered 
from your telegram you were on the way to Paris.” 

“Called back to the office on special business,” 
said Roger in Magnet’s voice. “I shall probably be 
leaving by the two o ’clock train. ’ ’ 

“Sorry you are letting up on Curfew,” said 
Bolstrode. “But I’m going to carry on alone. What’s 
the idea?” 

“I can’t very well tell you over the telephone but I 
have good cause for the change.” 

“Since reading your message I have been 

l>7] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


wondering if there was anything in this rumor that you 
were going to get rid of the ‘Daily Spur.’ ” 

‘ ‘ Get rid of this paper f ’ ’ 

“Yes. Don’t think me rude. We are none of us 
making a fortune these times. I was wondering if your 
change of policy with regard to Curfew indicated any¬ 
thing of the kind .’ 9 

Roger noted a tone of superiority in Bolstrode 
which he well understood. Magnet, a highly success¬ 
ful man in many directions, was a failure in newspaper 
work, and Bolstrode who owned many publications, 
some of them quite profitable, was indulging in an 
accent of patronage to which Magnet must be un¬ 
accustomed. Roger decided to uphold the prestige of 
Magnet. 

“You are talking nonsense, Bolstrode. Pm in the 
habit of turning unprofitable businesses into paying 
ones. I ’m engaged on that now. By the way have you 
ever thought of disposing of the ‘Daily Telegram’?” 

Bolstrode laughed. “What, do you want to buy 
it?” There was a touch of derision in his voice. 

“It is not a very good speculation,” said the imag¬ 
inary Magnet with a certain grave deliberation, “hut 
if it had life put into it—” 

“Talk figures,” said Bolstrode sharply, “and I’ll 
listen to you.” 

“Well if anything round a quarter of a million 
pounds, subject of course to some investigation, would 
meet the case I might be prepared to look into it.” 

Bolstrode’s mental turmQil was easily to be im¬ 
agined. He knew quite well that Magnet was one of 
the very few men who could talk in terms of such mag- 
[i*8] 


PLUNGING DEEPER 


nitude. It was hard to undergo this turning of the 
tables, but Bolstrode had a strong business sense. 

‘ ‘ If you are really serious I ’ll think about it. ’ ’ 

“I’m quite serious. Write me to the Grand Hotel 
at Paris.” 

When Bullion came into the room again Roger was 
placidly smoking one of Magnet’s cigarettes, reflecting 
on the peaceful journey which Magnet was now enjoy¬ 
ing, and the stimulation which would meet him in the 
course of the next two or three days. 


[109] 


CHAPTER XIV 
Bullion and the Ladies 

W HILE Roger was busy with his program of 
business adventures for Sir John Magnet and 
all connected with him, Bullion was engaged 
with a half-formed plan to put careless casual Roger 
on the path to happiness. There had been disappoint¬ 
ment for Bullion in his friend’s obstinacy about the 
Defensors. He ached to do the two women kindness. 
He had steady courage, this young business man, but 
he was timid about Joan Defensor. It was part of his 
temperament that he shrank from what must be her 
first knowledge of his tenderness for her. She affected 
him like a strain of music. He found himself possessed 
of a dog-like faithfulness; to please her was a joy to 
him, even though she knew nothing of his feelings. 
Bullion was in possession of the secret of immediate 
happiness, and he knew it. With a kind of exaltation 
he sought plans to make Roger Drew known to Mrs. 
Defensor and her daughter. 

Roger’s lack of interest puzzled him. At a loose 
end, disappointed in business, with scanty prospects, 
and no domestic links Roger pushed aside as of no 
account the rooted friendship of the Defensors. His 
very affection for Dick Defensor might have drawn 
him to them. They could bring nothing but pleasant¬ 
ness to his life, and might even bring prosperity. And 

[IIO] 


BULLION AND THE LADIES 


yet with emptiness in front of him he sought to avoid 
them, to keep his life vacant, objectless, friendless. If 
Roger had been enmeshed in business, in ambition, in 
some strong purpose, his attitude would have been com¬ 
prehensible. The only common-sense explanation was 
that Roger was veined with an exaggerated delicacy, 
a fear that favors would he thrust upon him, an aver¬ 
sion from the sentiment which must he manifested 
when the mother and sister of his dead friend met face 
to face the stranger who by his very reticence had 
become transformed into something like a hero. It was 
too stupid. 

At luncheon on the day Magnet left for Paris, 
Bullion tried again to persuade Roger to go and see 
the Defensors, and was met with a half sneer. 

“I find it difficult to eat out of anybody’s hand.” 

“Sometimes you display yourself a perfect fool.” 

Bullion for once was nettled. 

“Environment and progenitors, so the professors 
say. ’’ 

Bullion raised his hand in a gesture of despair. 
For the rest of the luncheon he said nothing more about 
the Defensors, but he was making up his mind to action. 
He chatted freely about his office work, and presently 
as they rose to leave he said, “I shall be busy this after¬ 
noon. I’ve got to get back. ” 

“I wish you’d look over those articles I left at the 
office.” 

“All right I’ll see what can be done. Come up 
tomorrow morning. What are you doing with yourself 
today?” 

“I’ve got some letters to write.” 

[in] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


Roger did not explain that he carried in his pocket 
some note paper from the “Daily Spur” office on which 
the letters were to be written. 

That afternoon Bullion went up to see the Defen¬ 
sors, and was received like an old friend. 

“I hope you have come to tell ns that yon have 
some trace of Captain Drew,” said Mrs. Defensor. 

“Yes and no,” said Bullion. “I have come np to 
talk to you about the matter, but Pm afraid I haven’t 
got a great deal to reveal.’ 9 

“Mother regards you as our pivot now,” said 
Joan. “Somehow or other we think that through you 
we shall presently hear of him . 9 9 

“There have been greater improbabilities, and I 
have at least something to tell you. Roger Drew and 
I were friends together at Cambridge years ago.” 

‘‘Splendid , 99 said Joan. “I’m quite sure now that 
one of these days you will bring him to us.” 

“I don’t want to raise your hopes too high but 
you will see why I am interested, and why I want to be 
of any assistance I can.” 

“I’m so glad you came,” said Mrs. Defensor. “We 
would like to hear something about the younger days 
of my son’s friend.” 

“And what about this mysterious other friend Mr. 
Grey?” asked Joan. “Have you been in touch with 
him at all? Will he do anything for us?” 

“I think he might, and that is really what I’ve 
come here to see you about.” 

“Mr. Bullion, it is so good of you to take an inter¬ 
est in this affair for us,” said Mrs. Defensor. “You 
don’t know how much it means.” 


BULLION AND THE LADIES 


“I know Roger Drew was an excellent good 
fellow.” 

“It wasn’t altogether his attempt to save 
Richard,” said Joan, 44 but his friendship with him 
during those many terrible months beforehand. Some¬ 
how we got to feel he was one of us. Dick used to write 
and tell us all kinds of little things.” 

“Yes, I understand old Roger pretty well,” said 
Bullion. 

“It sometimes seemed very strange to me,” said 
Mrs. Defensor, “that Richard thought so much of him. 
He must have been a good man.” 

“It would tickle Roger Drew tremendously to 
know he was described as being good, Mrs. Defensor.” 

Joan smiled under standingly. She went over to a 
desk, and got out a bundle of letters, and selected some 
of them. “Let me read you an extract or two,” she 
said. 

“Richard was very colloquial,” said Mrs. De¬ 
fensor. 

“I shan’t be shocked,” and Bullion exchanged a 
smile with Joan. 

“Listen to this,” said the latter. 

“ ‘We had to fall back from this section last 
night. In other words we had to run away. Fine 
confession that, but we didn’t do it willingly. 
Large numbers of the Boches were getting around 
us, and we were suddenly ordered to tumble back, 
had indeed to scramble out of our dugout. There 
was a terrific noise, we didn’t know what was hap¬ 
pening in the mud and the rain and the darkness, 
[W3] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


and we just ploughed on, following some general 
directions which had been sent to us hurriedly over 
the telephone. There wouldn’t have been any tele¬ 
phone w T ires at all if we had waited another ten 
minutes and I don’t suppose there would have been 
much of us left to attend to any telephone. Drew 
was full of quips and cranks until we got back into 
comparative safety, and then I have never known a 
man more violent in his language, and that is saying 
something here at the front. I was surprised be¬ 
cause Drew is never very bitter. He goes out and 
kills the Boche with a light heart. I don’t think 
he ever hated them very particularly till this night. 
Of course it was touch and go with us, but I never 
thought that a little sudden thing like this could 
make him get the wind up. Nerves had never 
troubled him before, and here he was crazy with 
rage. He used language which would make your 
hair curl, and became suddenly one of those soldiers 
we read about in books who threaten terrible things 
in vengeance against their enemies. It came out 
after a quarter of an hour’s impassioned oratory 
what it was all about. Drew had had to leave be¬ 
hind his only raincoat and an extra pair of socks. 
You ought to have heard what he said about the 
Germans who got them . . . 

I began to feel something like him in the early 
hours of the morning. It was still raining like the 
deuce, and cold as charity, and we were switched 
off in a car to lend a hand, four or five miles away 
along on the right. When we were shot off suddenly 
from our dugout I had been indulging in a rub- 

[”4] 


BULLION AND THE LADIES 


down, and slipped on my shirt and tunic without 
any undervest. My teeth were chattering, I can tell 
you. We had an hour’s rest in a little old wooden 
shed and then the bunch of us, there were four 
altogether, were split up for various duties. I was 
jolly glad when old Roger pulled a cotton singlet 
out of his tunic pocket and gave it to me. ‘Salvaged.’ 
he said, ‘I crammed this into my pocket as we skee- 
daddled, and left behind a brand new mackintosh 
and some newly washed socks. Curse them.’ He 
was referring to the Germans. It wasn’t till a 
week later when we met again that I found old 
Drew had taken advantage of our hour’s rest in the 
hut to slip off his own undervest and give it to me 
because he thought I would die of cold. He always 
had an idea that because I was thin I was delicate. 

He lied like a Prussian when I charged him with it, 
but one of the other fellows saw his trick’.” 

“He can lie, all right, when he needs to,” said 
Bullion. “He prides himself on it.” 

‘ ‘ I think he was a very brave and gentle man, ’’ said 
Mrs. Defensor. 

“He would use his American slang and call that 
sob-stuff. He would laugh at it.” 

“Yes,” said Joan, “and I for one should know 
exactly what importance to attach to it if he laughed.’’ 

i ‘ Just a word of warning,’ ’ said Bullion. ‘ ‘ He has 
many good qualities but you mustn’t think he’s a saint. 
I don’t want you to be disappointed.” 

“You can’t disillusion us,” said Mrs. Defensor. 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


‘ 1 1 don ’t care how callous or shallow he is, I know what 
he did for my son. ” 

“That’s natural enough,” said Bullion. “But I 
don’t want you to get wrong ideas about him. You see 
I’m looking forward to bringing you in touch with him 
one of these times. ’ ’ 

“Listen to this,” said Joan. “Richard wrote us 
and told us that in one of his serious minutes he and 
others had formulated a little goodbye letter in case 
any of them should be killed. My mother had his own. 
Captain Drew showed his to Dick which was a curious 
thing anyway, because such letters ought to be sacred. ’ ’ 
“Just like old Drew,” said Bullion. “Nothing 
sacred about him.” 

“Well this is to his aunt down in Gloucestershire, 
a somewhat prim and formal lady, the wife of a clergy¬ 
man there. We have been in touch with her about 
Captain Drew’s whereabouts but she is as ignorant as 
we are.” 

“What did he write?” asked Bullion. 

“Here is what my brother said about it: 

“ ‘Drew has just shown me his goodbye letter. 

It is to his aunt whom he has seen very little of, and 
to whom, on the whole, I think he is very ungrate¬ 
ful. He just hates the staid respectability of the 
family. He told her he would be dead when that 
reached her. He said, he had been afraid so many 
times that it was nice to think that he would be 
regarded as a hero when he was gone. All soldiers 
are afraid, he said, only some are more afraid than 
others. He was one of the worst. He didn’t want 


BULLION AND THE LADIES 


them to have any false ideas about him. He wished 
his aunt happiness and prosperity, thanking her for 
her well-meant intentions regarding him, and 
begged her and the other members of the household 
to put him out of memory as soon as possible as 
the worthless member of a highly respectable 
family. He told Dick he saw no sense in writing 
such letters. He did it to be in the fashion. He won 
his D. S. 0. three days after that’.’’ 

4 ‘ Strange mixture/ ’ said Bullion. 

“You have heard,” said Mrs. Defensor, “of how 
he tried to save Bichard on that dark night!” 

“Yes, yes,” said Bullion, hurriedly. He saw the 
elder woman’s eyes were dimming. 

Joan came to the rescue. “May I be quite prac¬ 
tical, Mr. Bullion!” she said. “We have in our mind 
that a man like Captain Drew may very well have 
drifted away into misfortune. My mother and I are 
not just silly sentimental women, but we feel there is 
nothing now which would give us so much satisfaction 
and happiness as to know Captain Drew, and be friends 
with him. Understanding something of his tempera¬ 
ment it would not only be stupid but almost insulting 
to suggest that we could help him in any material way. 
I know we should never see him if anything of that sort 
occurred to his mind. But we would like to convey to 
him, if it were possible, to do so, that he would be giving 
happiness to my mother and myself in his acquaint¬ 
anceship.” 

Bullion stood up to go. “I am hoping to be able 
to arrange a meeting for both of you through Mr. 

IU7] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


George Grey whom yon met on the ‘Latian’. I can not 
tell yon more than that I believe he knows a good deal 
more than we of Roger Drew. He certainly saw a good 
deal of him. If he liked to take the trouble I believe 
he conld help yon. Yon mnst try to persuade him.” 

“I did try on the ship,” said Joan. 

“Well youTl have your mother’s assistance this 
time.” 

“Yes, I think I conld persuade him,” said Mrs. 
Defensor. “That is if he is a real nice sort of man.” 

“I think he is quite nice,” said Joan. “I liked 
him and that in spite of the fact that I don’t think 
he wanted to be bothered with me.” 

“Would it be asking too much,” said Bullion, “if, 
should the possibility suddenly occur, I rang you up 
on the telephone from the 4 Daily Spur’ office and asked 
you to come down there?” 

“We should be really and truly indebted to you,” 
said Mrs. Defensor. 

“We would come at once,” said Joan. 


CHAPTER XV 
Magnet's Day in Paris 

O N HIS second morning in Paris Sir John Magnet, 
ringing for his coffee and rolls had brought up 
to him a letter from Mr. Bolstrode, in London, 
and, having spread the letter open in front of him, was 
so amazed by its contents that he scalded his lips with 
hot coffee. The waiter, who did not understand those 
samples of English used by Magnet in the excitement 
of the moment, went downstairs and explained that the 
Englishman was mad . The maitre d'hotel, who knew 
more of Englishmen in Paris than the waiter, shook 
his head understanding^ and sent up some bacon and 
eggs. The waiter, carrying this addition to the break¬ 
fast knocked gently at Magnet's door, and hearing a 
grunt which he took for an invitation to enter, carried 
in the bacon and eggs. Magnet was on his feet, the 
letter lying by his plate, while the early edition of the 
“Daily Spur" was clutched in his hand. During the 
waiter's absence he had not only read Bolstrode's in¬ 
explicable communication again, but had also seen in 
the “Daily Spur" a leading article showering fulsome 
praise on the Home Secretary, for long his bitter 
enemy. The waiter took the expression on the visitor's 
face for that of hunger, and set the dish before him 
with a pleasing deprecating word. 

“What's this?" roared Magnet. 

The waiter removed the cover. Magnet took one 
steady look, then seized the tray with the intention of 

[u 9 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


throwing the contents into the fireplace. He restrained 
himself, replaced the tray on the table and roared at 
the waiter. “I want a telephone, yon fool. Where’s 
the telephone?” 

The waiter fled from the room to convey the news 
that the Englishman’s madness had become homicidal 
owing to the delay in providing him with the bacon and 
eggs. 

The misunderstanding was removed by Magnet, 
who close on the waiter’s heels, said strong things in 
such rapid words that the maitre d’hotel had the im¬ 
pression a mistake had been made in not bringing up 
the telephone on a plate instead of the bacon and eggs. 
Eventually by the expenditure of much nervous force 
on Magnet’s part the matter was sifted out, and a tel¬ 
ephone call was put through to London. 

While waiting for connection with the unsuspect¬ 
ing Russell, Magnet mentally strove to get a grasp of 
the situation, and for more understanding read through 
again the leading article about the Home Secretary. 
Rage and wonderment battled within him. He dropped 
the paper and turned to the letter from the proprietor 
of the 4 ‘ Daily Telegram. ’ ’ The letter was as follows:— 

“Dear Sir John: 

Your message of yesterday has caused me 
considerable thought, for you will realize that the 
sentimental value of the ‘Daily Telegram’ to 
the Bolstrode family is almost equal to its mone¬ 
tary value. Frankly it is difficult to part with it. 

At the same time with the interest of the other 
shareholders in view it has been impossible to refuse 

[120] 


MAGNET’S DAY IN PARIS 


consideration to your offer. I may say that my own 
opinion, in view of all the circumstances, is that we 
ought to accept it. There are formalities to be met 
in the preliminary stage because interests other than 
my own have to be considered, but I think you may 
take it from me that the sum you mentioned, namely 
two hundred and fifty thousand pounds, will be 
acceptable. The affair is so important that I have 
decided to follow you to Paris in order that we may 
discuss arrangements personally. I am sure you 
will agree that this will be much more satisfactory. 

I hope I shall not be intruding if I come to your 
hotel tomorrow evening. 

Yours very sincerely, 

John Bolstrode.” 

The effect of the letter on Sir John Magnet’s face 
and gestures each time he read it can be prepared to 
the effect of a mouthful of unsuspectedly sour goose¬ 
berries united with the sensation of a sudden and acute 
toothache. 

“The brazen bulbous-headed fool,” said Magnet 
to himself. “ If I didn’t know his writing I should say 
it was a forgery. The man’s in delirium. Here, waiter, 
send off this telegram.” He hastily scribbled the fol¬ 
lowing message: “John Bolstrode, 4 Daily Telegram’, 
London. Don’t come, you have made great mistake. 
Magnet.” He received a reply some hours later from 
Fleet Street stating that Bolstrode was already on his 
way. Before this message arrived, however, Magnet 
had managed to get in communication with Russell on 
the telephone. 


[121] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


Now the Paris-London telephone is a thing of 
moods, sometimes comparatively clear, at other times 
perverse and fretful, and on all occasions requiring 
skilful coaxing and firmness. Magnet was in no frame 
of mind to palter with the thing. As soon as he heard 
Russell’s voice he bellowed: “What about this leading 
article?” and it was unfortunate that this reached Rus¬ 
sell as “I see you got the leading article.” “Yes,” 
said Russell, “I hope it’s what you want.” Russell, 
being calm, made his words heard quite distinctly, 
wherein he had a great advantage over his employer. 
There ensued an exchange of sentences so interesting 
that it stopped a detailed discussion between two tele¬ 
phone girls with regard to the merits of their respec¬ 
tive sweethearts. 

“What the blazes does the article mean? Why are 
we praising him ? Are you all gone daft ? ’’ 

“Speak up,” urged Russell, “I can’t hear you 
very well. ’ ’ 

Magnet holding in his feelings with a great effort 
shouted at the top of his voice. “Why have you been 
praising him?” 

“Oh no, I don’t think that,” said Russell. 

“Think what?” 

“That he’ll believe we’re playing with him.” 

“Lunatic,” ejaculated Magnet. 

“Speak up,” said Russell. “I really can’t hear 
you. ’ ’ 

Magnet pulled himself together. He talked into 
the telephone with slow, loud, soulful intensity. “Did 
you get my message ? ’ ’ Russell heard this, every word 
[ 122 ] 


MAGNET’S DAY IN PARIS 


of it. “Yes,” he said, “and we’re all very much 
obliged to yon.” 

“Obliged,” screamed Magnet. 

‘ 4 The sub-editors are delighted.’ ’ 

“Oh, are they,” spluttered the great man. 

“Personally also I am indebted.” 

“Blue Heavens,” said Magnet. He put up the 
telephone apparatus, and gazed at it as though it con¬ 
tained the seeds of a mortal disease. 

He took a cab to the Post Office and sent Russell 
a telegram containing more adjectives than is usual in 
a business communication. It was apparent economy 
was no object to him. 

He felt better after sending this, and turned his 
mind to the principal purpose of his visit to Paris, 
which was the inspection of some new printing ma¬ 
chines at the office of one of the Paris papers. The 
American engineer in charge of the machines found to 
his surprise that Magnet was a quiet-mannered man 
who sucked up information like a sponge, and who, in 
examination of the presses, proceeded to point out 
small defects which only a mechanical expert should be 
aware of. The occupation eased Magnet. True, at one 
moment when the manager showing off a new octuple 
press said, “She’ll turn out one hundred and twenty 
thousand copies an hour easy,” he retorted. “He 
wants a quarter of a million. ’ ’ 

“Who does?” asked the surprised engineer. 

“Oh, never mind,” said Magnet. 

“The man who wants a quarter of a million an 
hour out of a machine is a fool,” said the engineer 
now thoroughly roused. 


[123] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


1 ‘Yes,’’ said Magnet mildly. 

“A quarter of a million!” repeated the perturbed 
engineer. 

Magnet went back to his hotel to find an answer 
from the “Daily Telegram” office that Bolstrode was 
on his way. 

“He’s trying to bluff me,” said Magnet to him¬ 
self. “Didn’t think he had it in him.” 

During the afternoon Bolstrode arrived. A well- 
groomed man of sixty, self-important and more than a 
little domineering, he was prepared to be gracious to 
Magnet in view of the munificence of the financier’s 
offer. 

“Well, Sir John,” he said. “I never thought to 
be discussing with you the sale and purchase of the 
‘Daily Telegram.’ ” 

“It had never entered my head either,” said Mag¬ 
net dryly, waiting for the other to show his hand. 

“The ‘Daily Telegram’,” said Sir John, “was 
established one hundred and fifty years ago, and it was 
the most prosperous paper in the United Kingdom at 
a time when you were at school. 

“Times alter,” said Magnet. 

“The ‘Daily Telegram’ is a household word 
through two continents,” went on Bolstrode. 

“What’s the circulation now?” asked Magnet. 

“Not so much as the ‘Daily Spur’, of course,” said 
Bolstrode, “but then the 4 Daily Spur’ is a very differ¬ 
ent kind of production. ’ ’ 

“Very,” was the reply. “But what did you say 
the circulation of the ‘Telegram’ was.” 

“With a paper of the calibre and reputation of the 

[124] 


MAGNET’S DAY IN PARIS 


‘ Daily Telegram’ an immense circulation is not of so 
much importance. Doubtless you have some idea of 
what it sells each day.” 

“A rough idea,” said Magnet. 

“And it wouldn’t he for its circulation that you 
desired to acquire it.” 

“Yes, I think I can go as far as that. But shall 
we say 200,000 a day?” 

“I really don’t follow the daily figures very much 
but I should think that would be about it. ’ ’ 

Magnet took a small diary from his pocket, turned 
up the letter T and said ‘ ‘ The Circulation of the 4 Daily 
Telegram’ for the last week has ranged from 57,000 to 
62,000 copies a day. Its circulation the day before yes¬ 
terday was 58,160.” 

Bolstrode was staggered. “I really didn’t know 
the actual figures,” he said. 

“Just as well to look them up when you’re going 
to sell a property, ’ ’ said Magnet pleasantly. 

A thought struck Bolstrode. ‘ ‘ How do you become 
possessed of private figures of that kind?” he asked. 

“Oh just through the ordinary channels,” was the 
reply. “I secure every morning the exact circulation 
figures of every paper in London.” 

Though Bolstrode did not say, “You are an un¬ 
scrupulous rogue,” it was not hard for Magnet to 
gather that was in his mind. 

He strove hard for self command. 

“Well, since you know all about it your offer has 
an added weight. You have, no doubt, some good rea¬ 
son for buying.” 

“Even as you have for selling.” 

[>5] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“Yes, there are exactly one quarter million good 
reasons for my selling the paper/ 7 

“Indeed, and what is their nature?” 

“They are golden reasons, and you know their 
nature quite well.” Bolstrode laughed heartily. 

“I really fail to understand you, Mr. Bolstrode / 9 

“Fail to understand me?” 

“Your visit here, I mean/’ 

“But you had my letter / 9 

“Yes, and perhaps you will be good enough to 
explain that also. ” 

Bolstrode stared at Magnet. Then he said: “You 
rang me up on the telephone the other day and offered 
me two hundred and fifty thousand pounds for the 
4 Daily Telegram ’.” 

“Did I, by Jove.” 

“And when I write you saying I am coming to see 
you about it you express surprise.’ 9 

Magnet swiftly brought the matter to a head. 

“You know as well as I do, Mr. Bolstrode, that I 
have never offered you any money for the ‘ Daily Tele¬ 
gram ’, that I have never approached you directly or 
indirectly with regard to its purchase, and that is why 
I now ask you what is your little game?” 

Bolstrode had heard much of the audacity of Sir 
John Magnet, but had never conceived it possible that 
it could reach such heights. “Do I understand you 
seriously to say that you have never made an offer for 
the ‘Daily Telegram’, Sir John?’ 7 

“That is precisely the meaning of my words.” 

“Very well, sir. To that I have to reply that two 
days ago you rang me up at my office and, after some 
[126] 


MAGNET’S DAY IN PARIS 


conversation about the Home Secretary, you asked me 
to sell you the ‘Daily Telegram’ and offered me two 
hundred and fifty thousand pounds for it.” 

“I must have been asleep,” said Magnet blandly. 

“Asleep!” 

“Yes, because I don’t remember anything about 
it.” 

“But you spoke to me yourself.” 

“It must certainly have been in my sleep, if I did, 
because my real offer to you for the ‘Daily Telegram’ 
would have been a ten pound note instead of a quarter 
of a million. ’ ’ 

“So it was a joke.” 

“I really don’t know what your name is, Mr. Bol- 
strode. But if I had been in your place I should have 
adopted a more plausible story to secure this inter¬ 
view. ’ ’ 

“You’re a scoundrel, sir,” exclaimed the infu¬ 
riated Bolstrode. 

“But I am not a fool,” said Magnet, “and that is 
what you appear to be. I hope you will have had 
profit out of your trip to Paris.” 

“I will expose you, sir, expose you in the columns 
of my paper.” 

“Any little advertisement is welcome in these 
times,” said Magnet. “Pity your circulation isn’t 
bigger. ’ ’ 

Bolstrode could not trust himself to speak, and he 
went down into the hall to find out what time he could 
get a train back to London. 

Magnet was entertained by Parisian friends that 
night and he managed to lose his sense of annoyance 
[127] 


THE ESCAPADE OP ROGER DREW 


for the time being, but as he started to walk back to the 
hotel his mind swung to the astounding occurrences of 
the morning. Magnet knew he had many enemies, and 
he wondered if he were suffering from the effects of 
some.ill natured trick. On reflection he was convinced 
that Bolstrode was innocent in the matter and was 
quite sincere. He allowed himself a smile at the reflec¬ 
tion that Bolstrode must be at least as angry as he 
himself was. 

From the time Magnet had taken over the “Daily 
Spur 99 six months previously he had found the business 
a source of irritation as well as of loss, and although 
there were some compensations, he began, during the 
walk back to his hotel to wonder for the first time 
whether he had done well in breaking new ground with 
this newspaper work. There would probably be but 
little money in it, even if he were successful. Was the 
game worth the candle ? It was in this mood of initial 
disgust with journalistic ventures in general that he 
reached the Grand Hotel and found the following tele¬ 
gram awaiting him. 

“Sir John Magnet, 

Grand Hotel, 

Paris. 

The directors of the ‘Evening Argus’ will 
be pleased to meet you and discuss with you your 
offer of one hundred and fifty thousand pounds for 
the paper. 

Charles O’Grady, 
Chairman.” 


[ 128 ] 


CHAPTER XVI 
Rogee's Lie 

B ULLION was promptly at work at his new task. 
On the day following his visit to Mrs. Defensor 
and Joan he sent them a telephoned request that 
they should go to the ‘ 4 Daily Spur” office that after¬ 
noon. He had made arrangements he said that on their 
arrival they should be shown up to him at once in 
Sir John Magnet's room. 

The invitation with all that it implied was an ex¬ 
citement both for mother and daughter. They led quiet 
lives, mixing little with the society with which they 
were in touch, although once in a while they gave a 
dinner to a group of friends, and two or three times in 
the summer made a point of entertaining at their beau¬ 
tiful place in Surrey. The loss of Richard Defensor 
had opened a gap in their lives, and had taken away 
many an interest which linked them with the outside 
world. Though it could hardly be said that the two 
women were devoting their lives to finding Richard’s 
friend, it was none the less true that the expectation 
of discovering him provided a constant source of 
thought and a stimulation. The mystery of his dis¬ 
appearance, the difficulty of ascertaining his where¬ 
abouts, perhaps deepened their desire, added some¬ 
thing to their affectionate curiosity. The search for 
him made Richard Defensor live again to them. The 
dead man was not entirely gone while his intimate 

Op] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


associate was somewhere and at some time available. 
Joan’s talk on the steamer with the stranger, and 
Bullion’s kindly help, had stirred both the girl and her 
mother, and the communication from Bullion asking 
them to go to the City that afternoon gave them a hope, 
shadowy, but pleasant. 

“It grows on me,” said Mrs. Defensor, “that Cap¬ 
tain Drew isn’t alive any more, or he would have come 
to us.” 

“Perhaps we have idealised him a little too much,” 
said Joan. “He might not have been so close to 
Bichard as we like to think, and possibly we are not 
nearly of as much interest to him as he is to us. Of 
course I know he was most kind to Dick.” 

“You’re wrong, Joan. I know that man. If he is 
alive he is keeping away from us out of some quite nice 
feeling. He doesn’t want to intrude, he feels we shall 
be over grateful to him. I’m sure it is something of 
that kind.” 

“It’s curious that I can’t put Mr. Grey out of my 
mind, the man we met on the steamer. ’ ’ 

“Captain Drew is the only one I’m concerned 
with,” said Mrs. Defensor. “I wonder if there is the 
slightest chance that Mr. Bullion has found him.” 

“Judging from his message I don’t think so. I 
believe we are going to meet this ‘Mr. Grey’, as he 
calls himself. I wonder what his real name is. We 
shall meet him this afternoon, and we shall probably 
be told. I am certain Mr. Bullion is going to have him 
there in order to introduce him. ’ ’ 

Their guesses were getting near to the mark. 
Bullion had staged a little comedy which he hoped 
[130] 


ROGER’S LIE 


might have a happy ending for his friend. He had the 
idea that Roger Drew with his responsive tempera¬ 
ment, suddenly placed under the influence of mother 
and daughter, might acknowledge the truth about him¬ 
self. The absence of Magnet gave the opportunity for 
the arrangement of the little drama. 

So it came to pass that when Mrs. Defensor and 
Joan arrived at the ‘ 1 Daily Spur” office, and asked 
for Bullion, they were met by an attendant who had 
been carefully instructed beforehand. 

“Mr. Bullion has been called out suddenly but he 
left word you were to be taken up to Sir John Magnet’s 
room. He asked me to apologize for his absence, and 
to say he hoped to be back in ten minutes or a quarter 
of an hour.” 

Now Bullion had not the slightest intention of 
returning in ten minutes or a quarter of an hour. He 
had put Roger in Magnet’s room, and set him to work 
writing an article with the kindly explanation that he 
would be quiet and undisturbed in the private retreat 
of the chief. He knew that when the Defensors were 
shown into the room Joan would recognize the “Mr. 
Grey” of the “Latian,” and as she had already been 
told that the name “Grey” was a disguise she would be 
quick to draw deductions. So worked the agile brain 
of Bullion. 

Mrs. Defensor and Joan, who had never met the 
financier, were pricked with expectancy as they were 
taken along the corridor to Magnet’s room. Varying 
elucidations jumped to Joan’s mind. Was it possible 
that Roger was in some way connected with Sir John 
Magnet. Bullion’s associations with each gave a 

D3'i] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


reasonableness to the thought. The visitors were taken 
to the outer office in which the stenographers were at 
work, and one of the girls previously coached by 
Bullion took charge of them. 

“I am to show you into Sir John Magnet’s room,” 
she said. ‘ ‘ Mr. Bullion will be back shortly.’ 9 

“She knocked at Magnet’s door and, at a word 
from within, she opened it for the Defensors to enter. 

“Mrs. and Miss Defensor,” she said, and as the 
two women passed in she closed the door again. 

Roger had met many emergencies in adventurous 
years, and he had maintained within himself the small 
vanity — not unjustified — that surprise was always a 
stranger to his face and manner. He had the hardest 
test that he had ever encountered when standing up 
from his desk to receive the unexpected callers, he 
saw the girl from the steamer and the lady he knew 
must be her mother. Explanations rushed upon him, 
as he welcomed them with a bow and a smile. He 
hazarded that he was discovered, that Bullion had 
tricked him, that at last these gentle detectives had run 
Roger Drew to earth. And the next second he was not 
so sure for he saw reflected in them, or at least he did 
in Joan, a measure of his own astonishment. 

He shook her by the hand. “This is indeed a 
pleasure, Miss Defensor.” 

She smiled. “I don’t know whether I ought to call 
you Mr. Grey,” she said, “or to give you your proper 
name.” 

“I can’t preserve the secret longer,” said Roger, 
poised and ready. 


[132] 


ROGER’S LIE 


“I suppose I had better introduce you to my 
mother by your real name of Sir John Magnet.” 

Roger was graciousness itself. 

‘ ‘ I’m entirely in your hands,’ ’ he said, ‘ 1 and I trust 
both Mrs. Defensor and you will forgive the little de¬ 
ception. It was purely business and not romance that 
led me on to the steamer as ‘ Mr. Grey. ’ ’ ’ 

“No wonder Mr. Bullion and you were so 
friendly,’ ’ said Joan. ‘‘1 hope I did not commit myself 
with either of you about the other while we were on 
the ship.” 

“Discretion itself,” said Roger. He turned to 
Mrs. Defensor. 

“I am in possession of your mission, not only from 
my friend Bullion, but also from what your daughter 
told me when we were on the ocean.” 

“You knew my son?” 

Roger’s voice was low as he replied, “Yes, Mrs. 
Defensor. I was at the front for a short time, and 
now and again I met Lieutenant Defensor. Won’t you 
please sit down both of you ? ’ ’ 

“We aren’t going to make any excuses for coming 
here. We have been anxious to find a special friend 
of Richard’s, and are only glad to have met another. ’ ’ 

“I hadn’t the slightest thought that I was talking 
to Sir John Magnet on the steamer,” said Joan. 

“Forgive me for saying that I didn’t want you 
to think that. Please dismiss any consideration of my¬ 
self at all. Regard me if you will just as one of those 
who were fortunate enough to come in contact with 
Lieutenant Defensor. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Did you know him well ? ’ ’ asked the elder lady. 

P33] 


THE ESCAPADE OP ROGER DREW 


“I think I knew him better than he thought, much 
better indeed than he knew me.” 

“We had the most cheery letters from him out 
there,” said Mrs. Defensor. “But I was always afraid 
he was going through hard times about which he said 
nothing .’ 9 

“It was a hard life,” said Roger. “You would 
like me to tell you the plain truth? Your son had no 
easy time. I Tn quite sure he minimized things. But I 
would like to pay my tribute to him. He was a capable 
soldier, although a little rash. He endeared himself to 
those around, because — the mark of the true man all 
the world over — he was considerate of those under 
him. I saw more than one instance of it. ’ 1 

The mantle of deception had dropped from Roger. 
He was speaking the truth. 

“He was reckless in danger, and perhaps this had 
something to do with his failure to get the promotion 
which I think he ought to have had. But any who pos¬ 
sessed a feeling for the real qualities in a man could 
not have met your son, Mrs. Defensor, without knowing 
that, with a touch of youthful exuberance, he was a 
gallant English gentleman.” 

The two women said nothing. Mrs. Defensor was 
moving a little unsteadily in her chair, and her hands 
were feeling blindly for the opening of the bag on her 
wrist. Joan was looking past Roger into space. 

“You would like to hear that I never met any per¬ 
son, from the batman who attended to his personal 
wants up to his colonel who had not an appreciative 
word to say for your son.” 


[ J 34] 


ROGER’S LIE 


“The colonel wrote me a nice letter/’ said Mrs. 
Defensor. She spoke with difficulty. 

There was silence, and then Roger pulled himself 
together to break the tension. “I understand,’’ he 
said boldly, “that you are looking for a friend of his 
called Drew.” 

Mrs. Defensor nodded her head and Joan said, “I 
think you told me you knew him, Sir John.” 

“Yes. Not a bad fellow but careless. He has 
wandered about in various parts of the world.” 

“We would like very much to meet him,” said 
Mrs. Defensor. “He was with my son right at the 
end. He tried to save him. ’’ 

“A lot of that kind of work done at the front. If 
it hadn’t been Roger Drew it would have been one of 
your son’s other friends.” 

While Mrs. Defensor listened with emotion which 
was only partly under check, Joan was watching Roger 
with an intenseness of which he became conscious. He 
suddenly had the idea that he was in deep waters with 
Joan, that he did not fathom her knowledge or thought. 

“You never met Mr. Drew?” he said to her sud¬ 
denly. 

“No, and yet I fancy I can picture him.” 

“I am thinking I might help you,” he said, direct¬ 
ing his words to the mother as well as to the daughter. 
“By accident I’ve run against Drew within the last six 
months, and equally by accident I know he wished to 
keep himself away from what may be regarded as civ¬ 
ilized circles. I’m wondering if — ” 

“Could you possibly reach him,” asked Mrs. 
Defensor. 


[135] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 

“I might,” said Roger thoughtfully. 

“You don’t know how grateful we should be.” 

‘ ‘ You would be giving great happiness to my 
mother — and to myself,” said Joan. 

“I don’t like to declare a man’s secret,” Roger 
paused, perplexed, and then as if he had suddenly 
made up his mind, he said, “I’m very busy for a day 
or two, and if you would be patient — if you would for¬ 
give me for just a little space, why I could turn my 
attention to it, and I think I might promise that within 
two weeks you should know his whereabouts.” 

“I can’t tell you what we feel about it. We have 
waited so very long. ’ ’ 

They rose to go. “It seems as if Mr. Bullion had 
been delayed,” said Joan. 

Roger smiled. “It wasn’t altogether necessary 
for him to be here.” 

“Perhaps you will give him our very best thanks,” 
said Mrs. Defensor. 

“You must forgive him his reserve about myself,” 
said Roger. 

“Forgive! We are most thankful to him.” 

“I’ll tell him.” 

As the two women reached the street, Joan said 
to her mother, “I’m a little bewildered. I can’t under¬ 
stand this Sir John Magnet. I certainly have some 
recollection about him which is mysterious to me. I 
thought I had on the ship, but I put it down to imagina¬ 
tion.” 

“He is a charming man,” said her mother. 

Curious little trills of speculation were running 
through Joan, and she had nothing but commonplaces 
[136] 


ROGER’S LIE 


for her mother’s happy commentary on the drive back. 

When they reached home Joan suggested to her 
mother that it would be courtesy to ask Sir John 
Magnet to the garden party which had been arranged 
for two weeks hence. The result of the suggestion was 
a message to the ‘‘Daily Spur” office, and a swift 
acceptance by the invited guest. Joan took the trouble 
to emphasize the trains by which he might travel out 
to Surrey, and insisted that he should make the entry 
in his date book. 

“Mother doesn’t mean to miss you,” she said, 
“and she knows what you business men are.” 

Roger replied with assurance which left no doubt. 
There would not be any business which could interfere 
with his visit on that day. 

After this was done Joan looked up Magnet’s pri¬ 
vate residence in “Who’s Who,” and induced her 
mother to write him to that address a cordial little note 
asking him to the garden party. Joan was partly 
impelled by a somewhat vague memory of a portrait 
of Sir John Magnet when he got his knighthood. The 
portrait did not in the least resemble the man they had 
met in the “Daily Spur” office that afternoon. 


D37] 


CHAPTER XVII 

Roger and the Home Secretary 

B ULLION went through much perturbed talk with 
Russell the editor of the 4 ‘Daily Spur,” and in¬ 
cidentally a good deal of discussion with Roger 
about the manifestations of Magnet in Paris. 

“Big and sudden changes are not unknown to us, 
but these are such violent contradictions. It isn’t as 
if I hadn’t heard his voice myself. I didn’t under¬ 
stand why he fluctuated so quickly, hut this facing about 
again within a few hours would drive a saint to despair. 
He has practically called us all liars, too. I sometimes 
wonder how long I’ll be able to stand that kind of 
thing. ’ ’ 

“Stick it, lad,” said Roger. “It’s only a passing 
phase.” 

Bullion pursed up his lips. 

“I’m not so sure,” he said. “There are some 
things one can’t buy with money. There’s going to 
be real trouble here when he comes back if he calls me 
a liar. Russell, too, Russell’s not going to stand it. 
He’s made up his mind, even if he’s chucked into the 
street.” 

“When do you expect Magnet back?” 

“Day after tomorrow I think. He altered his 
plans because of this upset. You had better keep clear 
of the office. He won’t be a pleasant person.” 

[138] 


ROGER AND THE HOME SECRETARY 


“I don’t know,” said Roger. “I’d rather like to 
see him. I see yon have dropped all reference to the 
Home Secretary.” 

* ‘ The only thing to do. Here we’ve been attacking 
him like the devil, and then we begin to praise him, 
and then Magnet sends us instructions to have a go at 
him again. Russell and I have agreed to keep any 
word about Curfew out of the paper till Magnet gets 
back. ’ ’ 

“What made Magnet attack him?” 

“There is genuine objection to this Bill of his, but 
in addition Magnet simply hates the man. He’s a 
clever but self-important person this Curfew. I fancy 
some time ago he patronized Magnet or slighted him 
or did something of the kind. At any rate Magnet has 
leathered him good and plenty since he had the paper. ’ ’ 

“It would be interesting to know what Curfew 
thought of Magnet. ’ ’ 

Bullion grinned. 

“Let’s keep off painful topics,” he said. 

It was a few hours after this conversation, that 
Roger made his call on the Home Secretary. The 
ground was already prepared, thanks to the note paper 
from the ‘ ‘ Daily Spur ’ ’ office, a sheet of which had been 
used by Roger with some care and ingenuity in the 
formulation of a letter to Mr. Curfew. The legal con¬ 
sequences of his action did not worry Roger in the least, 
because his mind was already jumping towards a flight 
to foreign parts within the next week or two. 

A complacent Home Office is not to be very much 
disturbed by change of front in a newspaper, but never¬ 
theless the permanent officials recognized that the 

039] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


appreciation of the “Daily Spur,” following a period 
of active criticism, was an indication of a return to 
sanity after a burst of sensationalism. No Government 
department likes newspapers; they are objectionable 
excrescences in a community; the community would be. 
wise to trust its guidance absolutely to a well-bred and 
respectable civil service, possessing a sense of respon¬ 
sibility which never allows itself to pander to mere 
popularity, — as newspapers necessarily have to pan¬ 
der in order to live. Still, even the highest do not like 
to be slandered, and so the Home Office officials felt the 
change in the policy of the “Daily Spur” was a return 
to a proper attitude of respect for a State organization 
charged under Providence with the good of the country. 

This attitude of mind was reflected in the words 
of Mr. Brownfellow, one of the leading permanent 
officials, to the Home Secretary when the latter came 
in at ten-thirty on the morning that the ‘ ‘ Daily Spur’ ’ 
had made its right-about-face. The Right Honorable 
Sydenham Curfew was a man something over forty 
who had successfully mingled chancery law with poli¬ 
tics. Judicial severity had marked him from his earli¬ 
est years, and a harsh Roman nose, and a thin-lipped 
mouth were the external indications of a considerable 
capacity and high self-esteem. There was no nonsense 
about the Home Secretary, no soft shades, and nature 
had provided him with a sense of dignity in place of 
a sense of humor. Mr. Brownfellow met him by acci¬ 
dent in the hall as he was entering, and accompanying 
him to his room, asked if he had seen the 44 Daily Spur. ’’ 
He spoke in the tone of one who refers to a regrettable 
prize fight, or a very low-class music hall performance.- 
[140] 


ROGER AND THE HOME SECRETARY 


“No,” said the Home Secretary, “more abuse, I 
suppose?” 

“They say they were misled about some of the 
facts, and indicate that we were right, after all. ’’ 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

Mr. Curfew’s lofty indifference did not deceive his 
subordinate. 

Mr. Brownfellow produced a copy of the paper 
from his pocket and handed it to the Home Secretary, 
folded with the leading article outwards. Mr. Curfew 
adjusted his eyeglasses, glanced at it and began to read 
it down, exactly as Mr. Brownfellow anticipated he 
would. 

“H’m,” he said. “ ‘The action of other Govern¬ 
ment departments has forced the Home Office into a 
false position. ’ Yes, that’s quite true, quite true. ‘ Mr. 
Sydenham Curfew whom we have felt it our duty to 
criticize on public grounds, is a man whose probity, 
singleness of purpose and high intellectual attainments 
are recognized by opponents as well as by friends. We 
shall he the first to express our regrets if we have said 
anything in the past which conceals our high respect 
for him as a statesman who knows his own mind.’ 
Daresay they’ll change again, Brownfellow.” 

Mr. Curfew was pleased but not appeased. The 
attacks in the past, ironic, humorous, bitter, were still 
in his mind, and he had full understanding that the 
picture of him which had been presented to the public 
would in large part remain. Besides he had a deep and 
genuine contempt for Magnet, which no apology, and no 
amends could ever entirely efface. That a cheap-jack 
—Mr. Curfew’s favorite appellation for the financier 
[!4I] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


— should secure a position in which without edu¬ 
cation, without responsibility he could influence public 
opinion, could vilify the great offices of State, could 
criticize institutions and procedures beyond his vulgar 
comprehension — this was a consummation which 
touched Mr. Curfew’s strongest emotions. He was 
almost passionately sincere in his disgust. Whatever 
Magnet did now or in the future would make no differ¬ 
ence. And yet, such are the weaknesses of human 
nature, even when concealed beneath the dignity of a 
Cabinet Minister, that Mr. Curfew turned to his work 
on this particular morning with a pleasing sense of 
conquest. The newspaper and its proprietor had 
found it impossible longer to combat him. Exactly 
what had happened to effect the change concerned him 
not. There was still a sense of propriety in the world, 
and statesmanship could still effect its objects despite 
popular outcries. It was with an analyzed self-content 
that Mr. Curfew turned to the work of the day. 

Alas for his peace of mind, he was to undergo a 
new stern test even while the satisfaction of public 
virtue was warm within him. Though he knew it not, 
disturbance lay in wait for him among the pile of let¬ 
ters marked “personal” which flanked his left elbow. 
He did not encounter it for nearly half an hour, be¬ 
cause the Chief Commissioner of Police was waiting 
to interview him about the muzzling of dogs in Kensing¬ 
ton, and he had then to be further delayed, rather 
pleasingly this time, by a call from the Prime Minister’s 
secretary with reference to the coming birthday honors. 
But presently a certain letter came to sight among his 
correspondence. Here it is: 

[142] 


ROGER AND THE HOME SECRETARY 


“Dear Sir, 

Sir John Magnet on his departure for Paris 
yesterday asked me to write to you in reference to 
the prospect of your taking over the publication 
known as ‘ Snappy Bits.’ I am to say that ‘Snappy 
Bits’ has been a profitable weekly journal in the 
past five years, and that during this period the 
profits have gone up in an increasing ratio from 
fifteen hundred pounds to eight thousand pounds a 
year. I shall be happy to lay before you at your 
convenience the full facts and figures. I am 
directed by Sir John Magnet to say that he is pre¬ 
pared to make concessions to a purchaser like your¬ 
self, and he will accept for the journal a sum of 
twelve thousand pounds. By Sir John’s direction 
I shall take the liberty of calling on you at an early 
date. 

Yours sincerely, 

George Grey 

(Secretary).” 

Having read the letter through, the Home Secre¬ 
tary looked at the address on it to make sure that it 
was meant for himself. He found there was no mis¬ 
take. His feelings were not soothed when he took from 
the envelope a current copy of ‘ ‘ Snappy Bits’ ’ thought¬ 
fully enclosed by Roger. It was a halfpenny comic 
weekly consisting of four pages of more or less funny 
and vulgar drawings designed largely for the office-boy 
public, and four pages of letter-press which comprised 
exciting serials, including the “Faithful Reminiscences 
of the Assistant Hangman,” a running narrative from 

[M3] 


THE ESCAPADE OP ROGER DREW 


an ex-official of how he had helped to put to death on 
the scaffold various malefactors of a preceding genera¬ 
tion. That he, the Right Honorable Sydenham Curfew, 
one of His Majesty’s principal secretaries of state, 
should desire to become the owner of this rag was so 
outlandish and preposterous a suggestion that he felt 
sure it could not have been put forward seriously. 

He sent for Mr. Brownfellow and told him the situ¬ 
ation. Mr. Brownfellow shrugged his shoulders. 

“What?” rasped the Home Secretary. “Do you 
really think they thought I should buy or have anything 
to do with this gutter sheet?” He held up “Snappy 
Bits.” 

“I can’t understand the letter,” said Mr. Brown¬ 
fellow in a puzzled way. 

The Home Secretary read it through again. “Im¬ 
pudence ! ” he said. 

“I suppose you haven’t thought of dabbling in 
newspapers at all. You haven’t spoken about purchas¬ 
ing a journal of any kind?” 

The Home Secretary was almost vicious. 

“ I should be just about as likely to purchase a 
grocer’s shop.” 

Mr. Brownfellow took off his spectacles and 
cleaned them with a silk handkerchief. “It’s an inter¬ 
esting situation, ’ ’ he said. 

“You don’t suppose I’ve given this man Magnet, 
any encouragement?” The Home Secretary snorted. 

Mr. Brownfellow said nothing, but he went down¬ 
stairs, and in conversation with a colleague committed 
libel on his chief. “Curfew’s got himself mixed up in 
business with Magnet,” he said, “and now he wants to 

D44] 


ROGER AND THE HOME SECRETARY 


get out of the mess because Magnet has started to take 
advantage of it.” 

Braced for his greatest effort, Roger at three 
o’clock in the afternoon walked into the big office in 
Whitehall and asked for Mr. Curfew. In place of a 
card he sent up a note on “Daily Spur” notepaper. 

“The Secretary of State will see you.” 

The tone of the attendant was respectful, now as 
always, to a visitor who had the entry to the great man. 
Roger went up the stairs in semi-serious mood; he was 
going to play the part of the non-committal business 
emissary, respectful but conciliatory and above all 
things grave and dignified. His silk hat and morning 
coat, his squared shoulders and slow stride took him 
clear out of the ranks of adventurers. A gleam of self 
congratulatory wonderment touched him as he went 
with the uniformed messenger to Curfew’s room. 

It has to be emphasized that Roger meant to be 
courteous to the Secretary of State. Annoyance to 
Magnet was his aim, and Curfew was but one of the 
instruments, and there was no reason to humiliate the 
Minister unnecessarily. He might have to suffer a 
little in a good cause, but no more than could be helped. 
Unfortunately for this benevolent impulse Roger pos¬ 
sessed an impressionable temperament, the kind of 
spirit that always responded to a challenge, and di¬ 
rectly he entered the room he felt the forbidding and 
insolent superiority of Mr. Sydenham Curfew, who sat 
facing a big mahogany table in an armchair. Roger’s 
intentions were revolutionized. It has to be admitted 
that Mr. Curfew did not seem to know or to care what 
Roger’s intentions were. He did not ask his visitor to 

[M5] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


take a seat and lie snapped at him before the attendant 
was outside the door, “You have come to explain this 
letter.’ ’ 

“I have come up for a business discussion.” 

Curfew stared at him with his rat-trap mouth 
shut tight. 

Roger was smooth and persuasive. 

“Your desire to have possession of this journal 
took Sir John Magnet somewhat by surprise.” 

“My desire to have this paper— ” 

Roger was not to be trampled on by the Minister’s 
evident anger. 

“He realized, however, that you had special rea¬ 
sons, and he wished me to say that he felt there was no 
need for you to apologize for your irregular method of 
approaching him.” 

“I have never approached him at all. What do 
you mean sir ? ” 

Roger elevated his eyebrows, and there was a 
moment or two of silence. Roger watched with mild 
admiration how Mr. Curfew kept a hold on himself. 

“Very strange,” said Roger breaking the pause. 

“Proceed,” said the Minister grimly. “Let me 
hear if there is anything more.” 

“I am not in Sir John’s confidence, and I do not 
know what means you employed to apprise him of your 
wishes, but I know enough to understand that Ministers 
can not always take direct steps in these matters. 
Affairs of state — ’ ’ 

“Is it suggested by Sir John Magnet that reasons 
of state would impel me to purchase this — this — ’ ’ 

He raised gingerly between his finger and thumb 

[146] 


ROGER AND THE HOME SECRETARY 


the copy of “Snappy Bits’’ which had arrived that 
morning. 

“I am of course a member of the staff, but Sir 
John does not tell me about private matters of this 
kind. No doubt you will be able to settle the thing with 
him yourself. Personally I had an idea that you; 
desired, ‘Snappy Bits’, for some official purpose. There 
is, for instance, a series of highly interesting revela¬ 
tions by the late assistant hangman— ” 

At this point Roger had to turn his glance away 
from the Minister whose eyes seemed ready to burst 
from their sockets in the intensity of his interest. Roger 
was becoming a little doubtful of his own powers of 
self control. 

“It occurred to me,” he went on, “that the hang¬ 
man being under the Home Office, there might be some 
connection between these articles and your desire to 
have the paper. Just a passing thought.” 

“Do I gather you reflect Sir John Magnet’s 
views?” Mr. Curfew spoke with an effort. 

“Not with regard to these articles,” said Roger. 
“I hope you won’t think that. Perhaps I ought not to 
have made the remark.” 

“You certainly ought not.” 

“But, of course, hanging is technically one of your 
departments, and there are many things to learn — ’ ’ 

“You have a horrible mind, sir,” said the Minister. 
“Perhaps we had better keep to the business in hand.” 

Roger apologized in the manner of a man who is 
abashed, and the Minister angrily brushed his words 
aside. “What I want to know,” he said, “is why Sir 

P47] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


John Magnet has chosen to insult me by proffering me 
a gutter journal as if I had made advances for its pur¬ 
chased ’ 

“I am quite unaware of what has passed between 
you and Sir John Magnet.” 

“Passed between us! What do you mean? Noth¬ 
ing has passed between us.” 

“If you say so there’s an end of this matter. Sir 
John will be surprised.” 

“What do you mean?” 

The rage of this dignitary at the suggestion of 
secrets between himself and Magnet was, Roger ex¬ 
plained afterwards, the most impressive of all the 
sights he had witnessed through three continents. He 
replied confidentially. “Between ourselves,” he said, 
“I notice that the ‘Daily Spur’ this morning was 
strongly in support of you in its leading article.” 

“I have not the slightest interest in the leading 
articles of the ‘Daily Spur’. What I am trying to get 
at is the origin of this outrageous offer to me.” 

Roger shook his head. “Afraid I don’t know. I 
certainly got the impression that you had communi¬ 
cated with Sir John Magnet. But now you say that is 
a mistake. Sir John is in Paris for a day or two, but 
he will be able to put the matter straight as soon as he 
comes back. If you will allow me to say so ‘Snappy 
Bits ’ is a most excellent property. It might easily lead 
to other journalistic ventures in the hands of a man 
like yourself. I am bound to say that . 71 

The Minister rose from his chair to bring the inter¬ 
view to a close. “When I desire to soil my hands with 
the gutter Press in any direction I will certainly 

[148] 


ROGER AND THE HOME SECRETARY 


communicate with Sir John Magnet. Will you please 
tell him so .’ 9 

Roger rose to the challenge at once. “ Possibly 
the tone of ‘ Snappy Bits ’ is rather light for your pur¬ 
pose/ ’ 

Mr. Curfew scowled at Roger as the latter took 
up his hat and stick from the table, where he had laid 
them. 

“Sir John is very desirous of serving you, even 
if it can not be done with ‘ Snappy Bits . ’’ ’ 

Roger had his hands on the door now. 

“If you don’t like ‘Snappy Bits’ you might have 
a look at ‘Loveknots’ our penny weekly paper for 
sweethearts.” 

“Hell!” roared the Minister, now driven beyond 
endurance. 

“I can make another suggestion, there is ‘Consol¬ 
ing Texts’ which is a high class Biblical weekly with a 
large circulation among Sunday Schools.” 

Roger closed the door carefully and softly, and 
made his way down the wide stairs into the street. Ex¬ 
hilaration was on him. He felt he had done his duty. 

“My first and last interview with Mr. Sydenham 
Curfew,” he said to himself. He was not to know that 
the Minister had some days before written an accept¬ 
ance for the garden party of Mrs. Defensor. 


U49] 


CHAPTER XVIII 
Magnet Comes Home 


S IR JOHN MAGNET returned to London in a 
grimly humorous mood. The incongruities of the 
last forty-eight hours, annoying and exasperating, 
were really not serious ones, and he was pretty certain 
that fifteen minutes in the office would straighten them 
out. He would enjoy that fifteen minutes, he knew. 
Magnet’s sense of humor never softened him where 
incapacity or muddle was concerned. He went down 
to the 1 ‘Daily Spur” as a wolf descends on a sheep pen. 

The building was hardly awake when he arrived 
at nine o’clock in the morning, and Magnet had a cer¬ 
tain pleasure in being there well in advance of any of 
the principal members of his staff. This happened only 
once in a way; it was on these occasions that the editor 
and news editor, the secretary and other chiefs felt 
they had a grievance. Magnet found one of his ste¬ 
nographers at work, threw her a word of commenda¬ 
tion, and took up the appointment book which lay by 
her side. 

“I see that Mr. Bullion has arranged to see Mr. 
Carter of the Waterside Paper Mills at noon. Ring 
up and see if he is at his office yet, and say that if 
it’s convenient I shall be glad if he C&n come here and 
see me at once. ’ ’ 

Five minutes later the girl went in to Magnet in 
the room adjoining and told him Mr. Carter had not yet 
[150] 


MAGNET COMES HOME 


arrived in the office, but that the message would be 
given to him as soon as he came in. Magnet nodded 
and buried himself deep in the letters that lay before 
him on the desk. They were giving him fresh surprises 
and harassments. He made one or two rapid notes, 
and then, rising from his chair, walked up and down 
the room laden with thoughts and conjectures. Within 
ten minutes the stenographer announced the arrival of 
Mr. Carter. 4 ‘ He said I was to tell you he has brought 
his son with him, and he would like you to see him 
afterwards.” 

‘ ‘Let him wait in your room. Send Mr. Carter in. ” 

John Carter was a common-sense, practical man 
of fifty-five, whom Magnet liked, and who liked Magnet. 
The two were different and yet there were points of 
contact which established friendship. 

“Glad to see you Carter. I’m in the midst of a 
frightful muddle. You can clear up one of them for me 
right away. ’ ’ 

“What is it?” asked Carter. 

“I saw you had an appointment here with Bullion 
for twelve o’clock, and when I looked over my letters 
I find a note from you making a reference to my so- 
called offer for the paper mills. You know as well as 
Idol haven’t made any offer. ’ ’ 

Carter whistled, and gazed steadily at his friend. 

“I had a letter saying you were going to Paris, 
and then I had a telephone message from you agreeing 
to terms, subject to an adjustment of the directorate. 
After that I heard from Bullion who said you were 
returning sooner than you thought, and asked me to 
come and see him this morning.” 

Psi] 


THE ESCAPADE OP ROGER DREW 


“You can take it from me I did not telephone you 
at all, and consequently did not make you the offer you 
suggest.” 

“With any one but you, Magnet, it would look 
like trying to slide out of an engagement. Of course 
there’s a mistake somewhere. I’m prepared to swear 
I heard your voice on the telephone. ’ ’ 

“Just what I expected in view of what’s been 
happening in this last few days. Somebody is playing 
tricks, Carter. I did not telephone you. I’ll get to the 
bottom of the thing today. Can you hurry up those 
accounts for me? Perhaps I’ll really make you the 
offer when I’m down to facts.” 

“You ought to clear up this matter though. If 
somebody’s fooling you in one way he may be doing 
it in another.” 

“Just what I suspect. Some persons are trying 
to be smart. I think they’ll regret it. And now Carter 
let’s get down to business about these mills of yours. 
Apart from the accountant’s statement I want to learn 
some other details. ’ ’ 

There was half an hour of the kind of conversation 
which Magnet liked, full of clear-cut facts, direct state¬ 
ments, an outline of possibilities, good and bad, and in 
general a faithful summing up of a somewhat specula¬ 
tive business. 

“You’re the type of fellow I like to talk to,” said 
Magnet, as his friend rose to go. 

Carter took up his hat. 

“There’s that boy of mine.” 

“I forgot you brought him round.” 

P52] 


MAGNET COMES HOME 


“I want to see if yon can do anything for him. 
Yon said yon wonld, yon know, if it were possible /’ 

“Did If Pve forgotten. Of conrse I will if I 
can.’ ’ 

“Yon remember I got on to the telephone to yon 
later, abont Hugh, and yon spoke to him on the matter. 
Why hang it, I suppose that was bogus, too!” 

“Afraid so.” Magnet smiled. His indignation 
had been transferred to Carter. 

“Hang it, man, yon ought to protect yourself in 
some way. Naturally Pm not going to bother yon with 
the boy now. ’ ’ 

“Yes, you are,” said Magnet. “I’ll have him in. 
Let me have him alone to talk to for a little. If he’s 
a chip of the old block I must certainly do something 
for him.” 

“It’s real good of yon, Magnet. I hate to bother 
in view of what’s occurred.’ ’ 

“Nonsense. Show him in.” 

“By the way,” said Carter as he turned towards 
the door. “Have yon heard anything abont this big 
new discovery in rubber?” 

“Yes. I’ve been looking into it.” 

“Pretty big thing. Pd like to get on the ground 
floor if what they say is true about it. ’ 9 

“I’ll mark yon down for something if we pull 
it off . 9 9 

“Is there any doubt?” 

“Considerable doubt. We have the goods but the 
Americans are on the same line, and Pm not sure we 
are going to win out. Pve been a little bit disturbed 

P53] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


about it. Something took the wind from my sails the 
other day.” 

4 ‘Aren’t you protected?” 

“I’d rather not go into the matter now, but if I 
get the handling of the business I’ll see you are in on 
it, Carter. Now send that boy of yours in to me.” 

Hugh Carter was a tall, fair haired, young man of 
twenty-one who had been to a big fashionable school, 
had spent a year or two in his father’s office, and de¬ 
veloped, instead of an aptitude for business, an im¬ 
mature taste for journalism; it was romantic, it was 
fascinating, — and in all its phases so very different 
from the somewhat sordid and laborious round of con¬ 
centrated office effort. Magnet knew the sort as soon 
as he set eyes on young Hugh. 

“Come in Mr. Carter. Your father’s an old friend 
of mine. I’d like to do anything I can to help you. Go 
ahead and tell me about yourself. ’ ’ 

Magnet sat at his desk twiddling a pencil, and the 
visitor, with his hat nursed in his lap, was in an easy 
chair half a dozen feet away trying to feel at ease. 

“The responsibilities you propose for me, Sir 
John, are rather heavy to start with, but I know others 
have done it, and I don’t see why I shouldn’t.” 

u Responsibilities?” said Magnet. 

“I have only composed some verses and written 
one or two articles up to the present. They say I can 
describe things very well. I edited our school maga¬ 
zine. ’ ’ 

Magnet shut his mouth tight, and flashed a quick, 
hard look at the young man. “We must have no mis¬ 
conceptions, Mr. Carter. In Fleet Street there are five 

[ 154 ] 


MAGNET COMES HOME 


hundred and fifty excellent descriptive writers; there 
are two real reporters; I have unfortunately neither of 
them on my staff.’ ’ 

“I’ll do my best, but of course the editorial task 
you are going to give me is very heavy. ’ ’ 

“All editorial parts are heavy. But we will see 
what you can do.” 

“I have, of course never edited an actual news¬ 
paper before.” 

“Eh?” said Magnet. 

“It is certain to be a little strange for me at first. 
I daresay I shall soon pick it up.” 

“Pick up what?” 

‘ ‘ The way to edit the 4 Daily Spur ’. ’ ’ 

“Do I understand, Mr. Carter, that you are offer¬ 
ing me your services as Editor of the 4 Daily Spur’?” 

“Yes, that’s my intention,” said Hugh Carter, 
with a spurt of boldness. 

“You’re a pretty good business man,” said Mag¬ 
net mildly. “You understand what it is to control a 
business with a turnover of about ten thousand pounds 
a week?” 

“Up to the present I’ve only done a little writing, 
Sir John.” 

“You’ve certainly got ideas, Mr. Carter. I will 
write you on the matter. I must say good bye now. ’ ’ 

Hugh Carter went out wondering whether he had 
got the position or not. 


[ J 55] 


CHAPTER XIX 
Bullion Revolts 

B ULLION found his employer seated at his writ¬ 
ing table with letters scattered all round him 
carrying on his face that calm preoccupation 
which so often signalled trouble ahead. 

“Back again,” said Bullion in salutation. His 
mental outlook was not so pleasant as his tone implied. 

“A frightful muddle youVe made of things,” 
snapped Magnet. 

Now Bullion had never been spoken to in this way 
before, being a highly capable and clear-headed young 
man who had been treated by Magnet with civility, and 
indeed with the kindness which his ability justified. 

“A muddle?” he said. 

Magnet banished the note of annoyance from his 
voice. “Yes, that’s what I said. I’d like the explana¬ 
tion. Why was I pursued to Paris by that man, Bol- 
strode ? Why did the ‘ Evening Argus ’ suggest that I 
had offered to buy it ? Who gave orders for that leader 
on the Home Secretary to be inserted in the paper 
yesterday morning ? ’ ’ 

“Ah,” said Bullion. “I can tell you all those 
things.” He had begun to take off his overcoat, but 
now he fastened it up again. 

“So far as I understand the situation,” said Mag¬ 
net, “I seem to have offered a quarter of a million 
pounds for the ‘Daily Telegram,’ and one hundred and 

[ 156 ] 


BULLION REVOLTS 


fifty thousand for the ‘Evening Argus’, and to have 
gone suddenly mad in the direction of the Home Secre¬ 
tary. According to the ‘Daily Spur’ he becomes a 
Heaven-sent statesman.’ ’ 

“It’s for you to offer an explanation,” said 
Bullion. 

“What?” 

“I couldn’t understand your action, from the 
moment you began giving the instructions. But that’s 
your business. Why you should charge me with mak¬ 
ing a muddle of matters, I don’t know.” 

Magnet straightened the wrinkles on his forehead, 
and looked at Bullion for a period of five seconds or so. 
“Do you suggest that I have offered big money for 
each of those two papers?” 

“It’s strange that they should both make the same 
mistake independently.” 

“It must have been in the same hour that I gave 
instructions for the new policy on the Home Sec¬ 
retary. ’ ’ 

“It was,” said Bullion. 

“You’re mad.” 

Bullion hardened. “If there’s madness in ques¬ 
tion you sent some strange messages to Russell and 
me the other night. ’ ’ 

“What the devil are you talking about?” he said. 

“You gave definite instructions about altering the 
policy with regard to Curfew.” 

‘ ‘ Indeed ? Anything else ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, you offered Russell shares in the ‘Daily 
Spur ’.” 


[ 157 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 

“ Offered him shares did I, offered shares in the 
business to a man so easily tripped ?” 

“I take the responsibility, the full responsibility. 
And it’s time for me to say Pm about sick of it. You 
can’t deceive me, I know your ways. You gave those 
orders, I heard you myself. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I suppose you ’re making money out of this some¬ 
how. ’ ’ 

The color went from Bullion ’s face. He spoke very 
steadily. 

“You’ve been trying to trick these other news¬ 
paper proprietors, I suppose, and don’t like being 
found out. You are, at any rate, perfectly safe in de¬ 
ceiving your staff.” 

Bullion’s spirit was at a great height. He leaned 
forward almost threateningly at Magnet. 

“Leave the office,” said the financier. 

“A master mind,” said Bullion. He had his hat 
in his hand. 

Magnet touched a bell and a messenger came in. 
“Fetch a policeman,” he said. 

“The police will be here sooner than you wish,” 
said Bullion. He went out with his head in the air. 

Now that the excitement was over, Magnet found 
himself stirred by the rebelliousness of Bullion. It was 
hard to understand it. In other circumstances the sud¬ 
den outburst of a capable fellow like Bullion would 
have convinced him. As it was he looked forward to 
the coming of Russell, and he had not long to wait. 

The editor came in confident and in good spirits, 
and Magnet altered his method of reception. 

“Anything to report, Russell?” he asked. 

[158] 


BULLION REVOLTS 


“Nothing much,” said Russell cheerily. “Every¬ 
thing is going all right. I have, however, to convey to 
you the thanks of the sub-editors for your generous 
promise to them the other night.” 

“Have I been giving them a rise?” asked Magnet. 

To this genial chaff, Russell responded, “It has 
bucked them all up wonderfully. ’ ’ 

“Has it? What do they think they got it for?” 

“We Ve been having some good papers lately, and 
the fellows have been working pretty hard. I was 
going to suggest some little improvement here and 
there, though I don’t know that I should have recom¬ 
mended it for everyone.” 

“Sol went the whole hog, did I ? ” 

“It was very good of you,” said Russell. 

“What did I give them?” asked Magnet, blandly. 
“Five percent increase?” 

“Ten,” said Russell. 

“Ah, I hope they’re satisfied.” 

“They are very grateful indeed. They talked 
about a deputation today. ’ ’ 

“I’m glad they didn’t come. I’m not civil to depu¬ 
tations as a rule.” 

“I have also to thank you for your message to 
me.” 

“What was that?” 

Russell looked at his employer with a little doubt, 
because he was keeping the joke up to an extraordinary 
length. 

“You indicated that you were making some ar¬ 
rangements as to a directorship.” 

Magnet played with his pencil for a few seconds 

1 * 59 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OP ROGER DREW 


in thought, and then he said, “There have been some 
remarkable happenings here in the last few days, Rus¬ 
sell, and I want to get to the bottom of them. Do you 
think Bullion is capable of a plot of any kind ?’ 9 

Russell stared. “Bullion, of course not.” 

Magnet helped himself to a cigarette, and then he 
said, “You deserve a recognition of your services, and 
I shall probably give you a place on the Board, but I 
must ask you to believe me when I say that up to the 
present I have not indicated an intention of the kind to 
any living soul.” 

“But you telephoned— ” 

1 ‘ I telephoned to no one. ’’ 

“I was in the room. You spoke to me at the same 
time about the article on the Home Secretary.” 

i ‘ Tell me about it . 9 9 Something like fierceness had 
crept into Magnet’s tone. Carefully Russell explained 
the conversation between himself and Bullion on the 
one hand, and the person whom they assumed to be 
Magnet on the other, and Magnet listened attentively. 

“I can assure you,” he said, “that I did not speak 
either to you or Bullion on that occasion . 9 9 

“You didn’t speak at all?” 

“Not a word.” 

“But your voice?” 

“There’s a clever comedian at work.” 

“It’s all bogus, then, this message about the Home 
Secretary, the sub-editors’ rise, and all of it?” 

“Every syllable.” 

Russell whistled softly to himself. “The sub¬ 
editors have all been told of their rise,” he said. 

[160] 


BULLION REVOLTS 


“The increase must stand. Look out they don’t 
know they have an unknown benefactor.” 

“I can’t understand it,” said Russell. 

“Somebody has personated me on the phone, tak¬ 
ing you all in.” 

“But why?” 

“There’s money in it somewhere. No doubt a 
carefully planned business. I suppose nobody’s got at 
Bullion ? ’ ’ 

“I’m perfectly certain Bullion is straight.” 

“I don’t know. If you had heard his insulting 
remarks to me when I challenged him just now, you’d 
have had suspicions. It would have been worth some 
people’s while to give him big money to put up the 
thing. ’ ’ 

“Incredible,” said Russell. 

“Well, now let’s see who there is who would have 
the boldness to do it, and for what reason they should 
try to disturb the office. We will take some of these 
newspaper people first.” 

Then with a meticulousness which would have done 
credit to a Scotland Yard commanded by Sherlock 
Holmes they examined possible persons and possible 
methods. Presently they came to political considera¬ 
tions. 

“The Government hates us like blazes,” said Rus¬ 
sell. “We have attacked them all round, and latterly 
we have been very strong about the Home Office.” 

“That Curfew person is not capable enough,” 
said Magnet. 

“There might be somebody handling it for him.” 

“I wonder.” 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“Couldn’t we do something about it tonight in the 
paper?” 

i ‘ That’s an idea, let’s work it out . 99 And so Mag¬ 
net and Russell put their heads together to construct 
a statement which should spike the guns of the Gov¬ 
ernment and expose the Home Secretary, and give them 
at the same time one of those sensational and un¬ 
expected announcements which provided the motive 
power of the “Daily Spur.” 

This was the article as it was eventually formu¬ 
lated. 

£ 1000 REWARD 

“DAILY SPUR” AND A POLITICAL 
CONSPIRACY 

JOURNALISTIC SENSATION 

“As all the world knows the ‘Daily Spur’ has 
used the great power it possesses, independent of 
party politics, speaking its mind clearly and fear¬ 
lessly on matters of public import. We have not hesi¬ 
tated to attack highly placed personages without 
regard to consequences. Over and over again it has 
been demonstrated that the people of the country are 
behind the ‘ Daily Spur ’ in its campaigns, and in view 
of this fact we have been able to disregard the hatred 
towards us of official circles, a hatred springing from 
ineptitude and incapacity. No one can doubt that the 
Government has been tottering to its fall through the 
action of the ‘Daily Spur’. We can not hope to be 
forgiven by those whom we are throwing from their 
pedestals. Unable by speeches in Parliament and on 
the platform to do us harm, prominent statesmen have 
for a long time been looking round to see a way in 
which they could permanently injure the ‘Daily Spur’. 

It is our painful duty to announce that within the last 

[162] 


BULLION REVOLTS 


few days a scheme to damage this paper has de¬ 
veloped. While we of course exonerate responsible 
statesmen from any share in this scheme, at once so 
malicious and childish, it is conceivable that minor 
partisans moved by political animosity have been at 
work. We wish to unearth these plotters. For that 
purpose we offer a reward of £ 1,000 to the person 
or persons who can put us in possession of the facts 
with regard to the matter. 

‘‘A number of messages purporting to come from 
the proprietor of the ‘Daily Spur’ have been sent 
to distinguished business men and others with the in¬ 
tention of seriously committing this journal. False 
messages have been received at the office of the paper, 
and if their dishonest nature had not been detected 
they might have had very serious effect. There was 
it is true a certain infantile ingenuity about the mes¬ 
sages which condemned them at once. The messages 
were designed to secure a change of policy in the 
paper. More damaging in their effects were com¬ 
munications sent to people outside the office com¬ 
mitting the ‘Daily Spur* to manifest absurdities, such 
as the purchase of newspapers of a different line of 
policy from our own. These instructions were sent 
over the telephone in a feigned voice. £ 1,000 will be 
given to the person or persons who can produce incon¬ 
trovertible proof of the identity of the speaker. 

“We invite the attention of the Home Office to 
this matter, for the Home Office is in a particularly 
good position to make enquiries. At the same time we 
may say for the benefit of the Home Office that we 
have no intention of ceasing to expose the inadequacy 
of the figure-head who is its nominal chief . 1 ’ 


“I think that gets there,” said Magnet. 


CHAPTER XX 

Letters of Note 


Leathwaite, 
Surrey, England, 
June 10th, 192— 


Mr. Merton J. Connick, 

Connick & Brown, 

7056 Broadway, 

New York City, 

New York, U. S. A. 

Dear Sir:— 

My mother and I consulted you when we were 
in New York recently as to the whereabouts of a 
certain Captain Roger Drew, and it is possible in 
view of your prompt discoveries given to us just 
before we sailed for England that you imagined the 
matter was at an end so far as our interest was 
concerned. We should have made it clear to you 
that we desired your investigation to continue. 
There is still considerable doubt in our minds as to 
whether Captain Drew is in America or on this side 
of the water. We should be glad if you would take 
any steps that you consider necessary, and report to 
us at an early date. 

We wish to direct your attention to the fact 
that Captain Drew was supposed to come to this 
country on a business project, and if I remember 

[164] 


LETTERS OF NOTE 


rightly, it was something to do with an invention 
in the rubber industry. We suggest that you will 
find in this a field for inquiry. If it should not be 
possible to put your finger on Captain Drew person¬ 
ally we should nevertheless be glad to have what¬ 
ever facts may come to your notice in regard to 
those with whom he has been connected in New 
York in his business. We should like to know as 
definitely as may be who the people are, and what 
his arrangements with them were. Incidental de¬ 
tails will be of interest and value to us. Will you 
please transmit a personal description of Captain 
Drew if you can procure it. Should you feel it 
necessary to come to Europe do not hesitate to let us 
know. In any case spare no reasonable expense in 
finding out all that you can. Cable us if you think 
it desirable. 

Yours sincerely, 

Joan Defensor. 


7056 Broadway, 
New York City, 
New York, U. S. A. 
June 19, 192— 

Miss Joan Defensor, 

Leathwaite Hall, 

Leathwaite, 

Surrey, England. 

Dear Madam:— 

On receipt of your letter I proceeded with the 
investigation with regard to Captain Roger Drew. 



THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


I hope to have material information to give you by 
the next mail. I am enabled to state now that 
Captain Drew was to leave for England on behalf 
of the corporation known as “ Fundamental 
Motorities, Ltd.”, the chief of which is Mr. Arthur 
Dixon, a substantial and well-known business man 
of New York. I have not yet been able to ascertain 
if Captain Drew has already gone to England, but 
trust to be able to get to the bottom of the matter 
within a few days. 

Yours sincerely, 

Merton J. Connick. 


7056 Broadway, 
New York City, 
New York, U. S. A. 
June 21, 192—. 

Dear Madam:— 

Mr. Arthur Dixon the head of “Fundamental 
Motorities, Ltd.” is a personal friend of Captain 
Roger Drew, and has a high opinion of him. He 
entrusted him with the British rights of a new and 
important discovery in regard to the manufacture 
of rubber used for automobile tires. Captain Drew 
is in England. I have not been able to ascertain 
by what ship he sailed. I trust to be in a position to 
send you further details shortly. 

Captain Drew is a tall, dark, clean-shaven man 
with blue eyes. He is educated and well-mannered, 
with a deep voice. 

Yours sincerely, 

Merton J. Connick. 



LETTERS OF NOTE 


Whitehall, 

New York City, 
June 21st, 192— 

Mr. Arthur Dixon, 

Fundamental Motorities, Ltd., 

Jackson Building, 

Nassau Street, 

New York City, N. Y. 

Dear Sir:— 

This is to bring to your notice the names of 
Mrs. Defensor and Miss Joan Defensor of England. 
They wish to approach you with some enquiries, and 
have cabled me to provide an introduction. Mrs. 
Defensor and her daughter have distinguished 
connections, and are held in high esteem. Any ser¬ 
vice you can render to them will be a gratifcation 
to, 

Yours sincerely, 

George Barrett. 

(British Consul General in the United States) 


Leathwaite, 
Surrey, England, 
June 21st, 192—. 

Mr. Arthur Dixon, 

Fundamental Motorities, Ltd., 

Jackson Building, 

Nassau Street, 

New York City, 

New York, U. S. A. 

Dear Mr. Dixon:— 

I have asked the British Consul General in 


[* 67 ] 



THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


New York to introduce to you the name of my 
mother and myself, and trust that he has acceded 
to our request. I am writing to you on a personal 
matter in which I hope you may have the power 
and inclination to help us. My brother Lieutenant 
Richard Defensor was killed in the war, and a very 
gallant attempt to save him was made by his friend 
Captain Roger Drew. Since the end of the war, 
Captain Drew T has- disappeared, and our efforts to 
find him have been unsuccessful. We feel under 
great obligation to Captain Drew, and, in addition 
to this, we have a keen desire to meet my dead 
brother’s friend and would-be preserver. I gather 
that he is engaged on your business in Europe. My 
mother and I would be deeply obliged if you would 
send us an indication of his whereabouts, and if 
possible put us in touch with him. 

Yours sincerely, 

Joan Defensor. 


Jackson Building, 
Nassau Street, 

New York City, 
June 29, 192—. 

Dear Miss Defensor:— 

It will be a great pleasure to help your mother 
and you with regard to my friend Captain Roger 
Drew if I can. I know you will like me to be per¬ 
fectly candid. I have a high personal regard for 
Captain Drew, and I am puzzled that he should have 
kept himself away from such good friends as your 
mother and yourself, and I really can not imagine 

[168] 



LETTERS OF NOTE 


what his reason is, though I am certain from what 
you say that he has some reason. I am convinced 
that it is his loss. I am sure he ought to know you. 
If he were just a business acquaintance I would not 
hesitate to send you immediately his address, but 
since, as I have told you, he is a friend I am a little 
hesitant to do it off-hand. Nevertheless I think I 
shall be able to fulfill your desires. I am sailing 
for Europe the day after tomorrow, arriving at 
Liverpool on July the eighth. I will come down to 
Surrey to see you on the next day. I trust this will 
be satisfactory. With best wishes. 

Yours sincerely, 

Arthur Dixon. 


Leathwaite, 

Surrey, 

July 3, 192—. 

Miss Agatha Brown, 

Burton Hall, 

Near Leicester. 

My dear Agatha:— 

I am glad you are coming to the garden-party 
here tomorrow because we are going to have Sir 
John Magnet whom you have always told me you 
were curious to meet. Can’t you come and have 
lunch with us before-hand? We shall be expecting 
you. 

Yours with love, 

Joan. 




THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


CABLEGRAM 

N. Y. July 3. 

Miss Joan Defensor, 

Leathwaite, 

Surrey, 

Captain Roger Drew whom I described to you 
should be further recognizable by a slight limp due 
to a wound which he received in the war. 

Merton J. Connick. 


[170] 


CHAPTER XXI 
The Garden Party 

W HEN Roger received a cable from Arthur 
Dixon announcing his early departure for 
England, he felt it a reproach, for there 
should have been no need for Dixon*s journey. Not 
that he anticipated criticism. The generosity of Dixon 
in his methods was in itself an indictment, and Roger 
knew the American was coming over to save the face 
of the man in whom he had put so much trust. Roger 
writhed under it. There was, it is true, the consolation 
that Magnet would not have things all his own way, 
that keen brains would battle with him for mastery 
which at present the financier took for granted. But 
Roger felt the indignity, and his temper mounted with 
reflection. 

Those who knew the suave and polished Roger 
Drew would hardly have recognized the man in an old 
dressing-gown, pipe in mouth, with tousled hair, strid¬ 
ing up and down his room on the morning of the garden 
party to be given by the Defensors. Should he go? 
Even while he asked himself the question he knew that 
no consideration of personal profit or loss could keep 
him away. He was nearing the climax. Soon he must 
disappear from all this new circle, for in one purpose 
he was strongly set: no more favors from Dixon; the 
good-heartedness of his friend should not be further 
penalized. He had a lift of the heart as he remembered 

P‘71] 


THE ESCAPADE OP ROGER DREW 


that at the garden party he would see Joan Defensor, 
a young woman who had such unusual qualifications for 
friendship. Pie did not look beyond a talk with her, 
and he foresaw possible complications at Leathwaite, 
for it was a toss-up who would be among the guests; 
he might even have to face exposure. Bullion who had 
returned to Magnet ’s office, under the call of an apolo¬ 
getic appeal from his employer, suspected him. How 
could it be otherwise. Explosion could hardly be far 
away, and in his bitterness, Roger almost welcomed the 
prospect. 

Leathwaite Hall at Leathwaite in Surrey was one 
of those pre-Elizabethian mansions constructed in the 
period when the great residences were being changed 
in form from fortresses to homes. It was of grey-red 
brick with a suggestion of Italian in some of the work 
on the gables and the variations round the eaves and 
above the doors. Inside was a pictorial spaciousness, 
rooms whose oaken roofs were higher than usually 
found in houses nearly five centuries old. It had a 
dining-room which would seat a hundred, and there had 
been preserved the gallery from which musicians used 
to lighten the heavier enjoyments of eating and drink¬ 
ing. Altogether Leathwaite Hall was a show-place, 
and the guests who had not visited the Defensors before 
had a pleasure which was increased by the affection 
and interest which Mrs. Defensor and Joan maintained 
in the old home. Joan especially had knowledge about 
the house and its history, and she always enjoyed 
herself with appreciative visitors. 

She was telling about the room in which Queen 
Elizabeth slept on her famous visit to Leathwaite, when 
[i 72 ] 


THE GARDEN PARTY 


she saw Roger come into the room with two or three 
others and join the group of listeners. Watching and 
waiting for him during nearly an hour, she had been 
fulfilling her share of the afternoon’s duties with a 
comprehensiveness which would leave her freer a little 
later to steal time with individual guests. In a few 
minutes the general conversation and movement steered 
her to Roger whom she greeted with conventional cor¬ 
diality. She strolled with him through one of the long 
corridors, and then with happy thought, she took him 
by a side door to the terraced rose garden,'which she 
said was a special pride of her mother. Joan had the 
important object of avoiding for as long a time as pos¬ 
sible the introduction of Roger to other guests as Sir 
John Magnet. As they walked and talked amid the 
roses, she noticed his limp. 

Roger and Joan were in the rose garden when Sir 
John Magnet who had come down by train from London 
entered the main gate and strolled up the tree-lined 
drive to the Hall. Immersed in the fascinations of 
money and business Sir John Magnet was no auto¬ 
maton, was not by any means the dried-up financier, 
and some of the finer things touched him although the 
world knew it not. Pie revelled in the July sunshine 
playing on this tableau of greenery and flowers. Half¬ 
way to the Hall, he debouched on the elastic turf and 
sauntered over to a cluster of flowering shrubs, the 
scent of which was responsible for a subtle impregna¬ 
tion fifty yards away. And as he stood before the 
bower of fragrant pink and white blossoms, conscious 
of an almost sensuous pleasure, he was by a sudden 
stroke brought back to the hard world of affairs. 

[m] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


Taking a short way to the Hall there emerged from a 
maze of hollyhocks, the silk-hatted figure of Mr. Syden¬ 
ham Curfew the Home Secretary, and his course led 
him within a dozen yards of Magnet. 

The financier, with sudden thoughts of the embar¬ 
rassment which would arise from a first meeting in the 
presence of strangers, made a decision. He moved 
forward with a word of greeting. 

“Mr. Curfew,’’ he said. 

“That is my name.” 

“I am Sir John Magnet. Forgive me but this seems 
an opportunity I ought not to miss. There is some 
misapprehension I wish to dispel if I can. ’’ 

Mr. Curfew made an icy inclination of the head. 

Magnet went straight to the point. “I gather from 
a letter you wrote me a few days ago that you are 
under the impression I have requested you to purchase 
one of my publications.” 

“Yes, I am under that impression.” 

“I desire to tell you it is entirely erroneous.” 

“I don’t think it is a matter which we can discuss 
here.” 

Never was a man told more plainly in indirect 
language that he was a liar. 

Magnet plunged ahead. “It’s quite a mistake. 
Someone’s been hoaxing both of us.” 

‘ ‘ That’s mysterious, ’ ’ replied the Home Secretary. 
“I received a letter from your office definitely putting 
forward the proposal.” 

“No, no,” said Magnet impatiently. 

“It was a very business-like letter giving facts 
and figures about this extraordinary journal of yours.” 

[ 174 ] 


THE GARDEN PARTY 


Magnet kept his temper in hand. 

“Perhaps yon will allow me to explain,” he said. 
“I was away from the office for a few days, and in my 
absence by some contrivance I was illegally per¬ 
sonated.” 

Mr. Curfew frowned. 

“Very interesting.” 

The patience of Magnet had its limits. 

“I have offered the explanation due to you, and 
perhaps you will now tell me if there is any solution 
of the mystery to come from your side. ’’ 

“From me! Solution?” 

“Certainly,” said Magnet. “I have been the vic¬ 
tim of a plot, a plot which might easily have been 
devised to injure me and my business by those sym¬ 
pathetic to the Government which I have frequently 
attacked. Until I have got to the bottom of the busi¬ 
ness I cannot dismiss that possibility. I suppose that 
I may take it that no one associated with your office 
has instigated this little comedy by way of a reprisal.’ ’ 

“The suggestion is stupid and insulting.” 

The Home Secretary lost his gentlemanly repose 
for a moment. “You put forward this extraordinary 
suggestion to me, after you have had the impudence 
to send me a letter, and finally to convey through one 
of your personal emissaries reasons for my purchasing 
the paper.” 

4 Nonsense,” snapped Magnet. 

“Came to my office,” said Mr. Curfew, “said there 
were articles in the paper about an ex-hangman, and 
thought I was interested in it because I was Home 
Secretary.” 


[TO] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“You’re mad.” 

“Your representative even went so far as to point 
out the merits of ‘ Stubbly Bits ’ or whatever it is called, 
and also to recommend to me for purchase the paper 
which is published for sentimental domestic servants 
called ‘Lovebirds’ or something of that kind. He went 
further, and led on by an angry word from me, prof- 
ferred in the shape of spiritual comfort one of your 
religious journals. Do you mean to say you know noth¬ 
ing about it f ” 

“You have a fervid imagination, Mr. Curfew.” 

“Imagination,” said the dignified Plome Secretary 
now becoming purple. “Why here’s the very man you 
sent to me.” He pointed along the lawn to Roger, 
who, having had to yield up Joan for a time, was 
sauntering along, admiring some of the flower-beds. 

“That man?” said Magnet. 

“Yes, and we’ll settle the matter now,” said the 
Home Secretary. 


[176] 


CHAPTER XXII 
Masquerade 

J OAN had chatted to Roger in a friendly familiar 
way about her brother, telling him of his boyish 
pranks, of his delight in country life and the queer 
tenderness not often found in an exuberant youth. 
Roger drank in Joan rather than the story of her 
brother, watched the lights in her eyes, luxuriated in 
the changing notes of her voice, observed her long nar¬ 
row fingers as she pulled a standard rose forward to 
examine its beauty, noted her firm step, and the sudden 
swaying of her body under emphasis. And he was 
brought back to earth by the knowledge that she was 
guiding the conversation, keeping it away from any 
reference to the life of Sir John Magnet. He had a 
sudden shrinking feeling. And it was in this mood 
that Joan, summoned by a message from her mother, 
left him. 

Roger walked off by himself through the grounds 
anxious to escape the guests. Undetermined as to his 
course of action, his offense in accepting, the invitation 
under another man’s name came upon him. With an 
impatient shrug he realized that he was forgetting him¬ 
self, and was thinking of the two women he had first 
evaded and then deceived. Joan suspected him and was 
protecting him — a tribute to her brother’s friend, and 
Roger pringled all over with a sense of humiliation. 
His feet were on shifting sands. 

[w] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 

He was rapidly nearing a decision which would 
have led him unobtrusively out of the grounds to the 
railway station whence he could disappear into self- 
respecting effacement, and it was at this moment that 
walking through the flower beds he came within sight 
and hearing of Mr. Curfew and Sir John Magnet. 

4 ‘Here you sir,” said Mr. Curfew, “your employer 
denies that you came to the Home Office to see me.” 

Gone were Roger’s doubts. Back into the auda¬ 
cious plundering world of action he came with a bound. 
He approached the pair with polite wonderment on his 
face. 

“Your call at my office the other day,” said the 
Home Secretary. “Here’s Sir John Magnet denies 
that you had any authority.” 

“You are a stranger to me, sir,” said Roger com- 
plaisantly. 

Magnet glared at him. ‘ ‘ Explain the matter. ’ ’ 

“And I don’t remember to have had the pleasure 
of meeting you before either.” 

Roger was all courteous attention, while he waited 
for the two men to introduce themselves. He was 
obviously curious, as was only to be expected from a 
person who had been so unexpectedly affronted. The 
irate Home Secretary wondered if he really had made 
a mistake; Magnet, on the other hand, was perfectly 
certain and did not hesitate to say so. 

“Do you mean to deny that you are Roger Drew, 
and that you have been in my office repeatedly?” 

“You really have the advantage of me. There 
must be some mistake.” 

The sound of his voice brought confirmation to the 
[178] 


MASQUERADE 


mind of Mr. Curfew, and who, trusting Magnet not at 
all, began to suspect some new development of the 
trick. 

“You certainly were at the Home Office, ,, he said. 

“What officef” asked Roger. 

‘‘ The Home Office in Whitehall. ’’ 

“I’ve heard of it,” said Roger, “but I really don’t 
believe I have ever seen it.” 

“I’ve no doubt your employer will tell you where 
it is,” said the Home Secretary. He turned to Magnet. 
“Your representative seems to be following his in¬ 
structions.” 

“Instructions, sir. Do you mean to suggest that 
I sent this man, or any other man, about my papers ? ’ ’ 

“I am content to let facts speak for themselves. 
You apparently recognize your messenger. I also rec¬ 
ognize him. He denies knowledge of you and knowl¬ 
edge of me, no doubt with reasons, and a sense of 
propriety. ’ ’ 

“I don’t think we need to carry on this conversa¬ 
tion any longer. ’ ’ 

“I am sure it must be embarrassing.” 

“Really, this is all Dutch to me,” said Roger. “I 
daresay it has some meaning. Perhaps I had better 
let you two fight it out.” 

He turned away. “Don’t go,” said Magnet. “I 
want a word with you. Later I shall be able to con¬ 
vince Mr. Curfew.” 

“I hope so,” said the latter, as he walked on along 
the lawn towards the house. 

“Now, Drew” said Magnet, “tell me what this 
indicates.” 


[U9] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


It was Rogers turn to draw himself up stiffly. 

“You persist, sir, in a very unpleasant mistake. 
I, like the gentleman who has just left, look for your 
explanation. ’ ’ 

“Do you mean to tell me your name is not Drew?” 

“I mean to tell you nothing after your very offen¬ 
sive tone. I can’t think that Mrs. Defensor knows 
she has a person of your manners here.” 

“You mean to tell me— ” 

“I mean to say that it is very unusual for a guest 
on an occasion like this to seek out a stranger and 
insult him. ’’ 

“This nonsense gives me the clue I’ve been look¬ 
ing for.” 

Roger looked at Magnet in astonishment. “My 
dear sir,” he said, “why not go along and get some¬ 
thing cooling to drink. Go out of the sun for a little 
and have a rest. Yes, really that’s the best thing I can 
advise you to do.” 

“I shall prosecute you,” said Magnet. 

“So sorry I can’t waste more time, but I have 
people waiting for me.” 

Roger was desperate now, for exposure might be 
a matter of minutes; it certainly could not be delayed 
longer than an hour. He had not thought to meet 
Magnet at Leathwaite Hall, and the presence of Curfew 
was a further surprise, a surprise which made the 
crash certain. Roger pressed his head back. He must 
see Joan Defensor, tell her the truth and fly. It was 
above all things important that he should meet her be¬ 
fore Magnet or Curfew had the chance to talk with her 
or her mother. 


[i8°] 


MASQUERADE 


Roger had a piece of preliminary good fortune in 
observing Joan amid guests taking tea at the tables 
under the big oak trees, and he went across to her like 
an arrow. Joan, perceiving that he was on an errand, 
rose from her table and came a few steps to meet him. 

“Miss Defensor, I have something to say to^you, 
to say to you alone, I am going to presume far enough 
to ask if you will sit down at one of the unoccupied 
tables with me under the plea of a cup of tea. I sha’n’t 
occupy you long. ’ 9 

“ Certainly , 9 9 said Joan. She was in a tremor 
though Roger did not suspect it. 

They sat down together at a table out of hearing 
of the people Joan had left. 

“Miss Defensor, if you knew a chance acquaint¬ 
ance like myself had deceived you and behaved dis¬ 
courteously and cruelly— 99 

Joan’s fingers were trembling. Looking at him 
steadily, she said, “I shouldn’t believe it of you.” 

“I am an adventurer.” 

Joan did not smile. 

“I have had some such idea about you.” 

For a moment Roger was deflected. 

“What qualities do you most admire in a man?” 

6 ‘ That’s easily answered. Courage, kindliness and 
a sense of humor.” 

Roger drummed his fingers on the table without 
looking at her. “What about honesty?” 

“Oh, a man must be essentially honest. I don’t 
think any man could be really brave, kind and humor¬ 
ous without being at heart honest.” 

“I don’t know about that,” said Roger. 

[181] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


Joan went on speaking. She was perfectly serious, 
and she seemed to have made up her mind for some 
occult reason that she must make herself quite clear, 
and that she must do it with as little delay as possible. 
Long afterwards Roger remembered. 

“Why ask a woman what she most admires in a 
man. We can’t really name things. It’s just the per¬ 
sonality that shines through him and out of him without 
his knowing it. When a woman once gets that uncon¬ 
scious message from a man it doesn’t matter what kind 
of labels other people put on his qualities or lack of 
them. Something within her has made the selection. 
She can never depart from it.” 

Roger looked at her for a moment without speak¬ 
ing, and there rose within him the shape of his own 
hopeless self, and he said, “I don’t quite know how 
to tell you but I have to give you some painful informa¬ 
tion. I have come here today— ” 

And then Roger stopped, for raising his eyes he 
saw Magnet and Curfew coming straight towards them. 
Each had been seeking Mrs. Defensor or Joan, and 
both had seen Roger with Joan at the tea table, and 
they had been approaching within a few steps of each 
other from the time the two sat down together. Joan 
rose with a gracious smile for Mr. Curfew, and they 
exchanged a cordial commonplace or two, while Magnet 
a yard or so behind waited his opportunity. 

“lam going to take the freedom of an old friend,” 
said Curfew in an undertone, “and ask who is this 
guest of yours?” 

Joan was having no confidences. She looked round 
at Roger, who had understood exactly what was being 
[182] 


MASQUERADE 


said, although he only caught a syllable or two. Re¬ 
serve was thrown to the four winds. To haul down 
his flag in the presence of this contemptible Magnet 
and the pretentious bigwig, who oozed superiority at 
every gesture, was beyond him. He had no thought 
of it. He had half confessed to Joan, but he did not 
know how far her comprehension had gone, and she 
herself might very well in all innocence betray him. 
All was lost anyway, and in the presence of these two 
men who touched every antagonism within him, Roger 
had his back to the wall. There was a gentle light in 
his eyes as he stepped forward to prevent an immediate 
reply from Joan. 

“I gather you wish to know me in view of the 
scene that occurred just now. I can spare Miss Defen¬ 
sor the introduction. I am Sir John Magnet.” 

“What!” 

Magnet himself had joined the group. It was not 
passion but pure astonishment which caused the ex¬ 
clamation. 

Joan looked from one to the other, and like a wise 
woman held her tongue. 

“You, Sir John Magnet?” said Curfew. “Why, 
you introduced yourself to me as Grey at the Home 
Office.” 

“Won’t you tell me your own name?” said Roger. 
“We shall really then be able to get to the bottom of 
this matter. There seems some confusion.” 

“You scoundrel!” said Magnet. “You came to 
my office — ’ 9 

“I wonder if somebody has been impersonating 
me?” said Roger. “I am certainly Sir John Magnet. 

[183] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 

What is your explanation, sir, for addressing me as 
scoundrel ? It is not language usually employed before 
ladies.” 

Magnet turned to Curfew. ‘ ‘ This is intolerable, ’ 9 
he said. “Mr. Curfew, we perhaps can discuss this 
when Miss Defensor is absent.” 

“First of all,” said Roger, “it would be well to 
tell Miss Defensor who you are. I gather the other 
gentleman’s name is Curfew. Is it possible that he can 
be the Right Honorable Sydenham Curfew?” 

“I am Sir John Magnet,” said Magnet turning to 
Joan. “I am sorry to have to introduce myself under 
such unpleasant circumstances.” 

“But I understood this was Sir John,” said Joan 
pointing to Roger. “Can there be two of the same 
name ? ’ ’ 

“It is fortunate that I was here in person,” said 
Roger to Joan. “In my absence the fellow might have 
been successful.” 

His manner changed and he turned on Magnet 
almost ferociously. “What do you mean sir? What 
is your little game? I understand you do not know 
this man, Miss Defensor?” 

Joan shook her head. 

“I can clear part of this up but not all of it,” in¬ 
terrupted Curfew. “Why this representative of Sir 
John Magnet should be taking on his name I do not 
know but it may be there is more in it than meets the 
eye. This is certainly Sir John Magnet.” He in¬ 
dicated the real owner of the name. 

“Working it together, are you?” said Roger. 
“Would you believe it, I found these two men not an 
[184] 


MASQUERADE 

hour ago deep in quarrel, fixing the business up I 
suppose.” 

44 How dare you pretend not to know who I am?” 
said the Home Secretary. 

“I really have been too busy guessing who your 
confederate is to trouble about you.” 

44 Confederate?” said Curfew. 

4 4 Why surely,’ 9 said Roger. 4 4 I daresay other peo¬ 
ple besides myself saw and heard you quarrelling to¬ 
gether just now.” 

Curfew turned to Magnet, and the latter with a 
kind of savage composure said, 4 4 Well, we were quar¬ 
relling you know, Mr. Curfew.” 

44 You might have been sir, I was not.” 

44 Come,” said Roger persistently, 44 why don’t the 
two of you make a clean breast of it. The game is up. 
You can see that. Tell us all about it.” 

Curfew turned from Roger to the man whom he 
believed to be the principal agent in the complexity. 
44 You are certainly Sir John Magnet. There’s a good 
deal too much mystery about you and this business, and 
your servant, to make you an acceptable acquaintance. 
I will escort Miss Defensor to the house if she will 
allow me. ’ ’ 

44 Very well done indeed,” commented Roger. 
4 4 Now it only remains for this other person to become 
indignant and disappear and they are well out of it. ’ ’ 

Poor Joan had withdrawn a little from the three 
men. She was praying no other guests would come 
within hearing. Roger looked across at her. 4 4 Are you 
on the telephone here ? Can you get in touch with the 
[i85] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


local police ?” He frowned as though puzzled as to 
the proper line of action. And at this juncture Fate 
entered in the person of Bullion, who recognizing 
Magnet and Roger, had come across the grass fearful 
of he knew not what but quite prepared for drama. 

Joan welcomed him with her eyes; she felt safer 

now. 

Roger with the old boyish smile extended his hand. 
“Glad to see you, Bullion. You’re just in time to say 
goodbye.’ ’ 

‘ * Hello Roger . 9 9 Then Bullion swung round with a 
word of salutation to his chief. 

“We’ve g 0 t to the bottom of it,” said Magnet 
grimly. 

“Yes,” said Roger, “rubber will soon be going up. 
I ’ll he packing my bag. ’ ’ He turned and bowed a good¬ 
bye to Joan without saying anything to her. 

“This is outrageous,” said the Home Secretary. 
“I suppose you know you have made yourself liable to 
the processes of the law?” 

“But not to those of the hangman?” said Roger 
anxiously. 

“You are an impudent fellow. I’m sure I speak 
on behalf of Mrs. Defensor and her daughter. In order 
to escape legal procedure, you must leave this place at 
once.” 

“Something in what you say,” remarked Roger. 
“But I really don’t like to go while my mind is in an 
unsettled state about one thing. I refer to the vital 
and pressing question of 4 Snappy Bits’ or ‘Consoling 
Texts’.” 


[186] 


MASQUERADE 


He twisted round and set off toward the park 
gates. Joan was already hurrying to the house. Her 
head was erect, her walk had a youthful spring; but 
her eyes were troubled. 


CHAPTER XXIII 

Un VEILINGS 


H ALF an hour later Joan sought out Magnet and 
Bullion. 

“I suppose I ought to apologize/’ she said with 
a light smile, 44 these things don’t happen at a well regu¬ 
lated gathering.” 

“I am truly sorry you should have been imposed 
upon,” said Magnet, who was not insensible to the 
charms of a lovely young woman. “I ought to make 
my apologies for coming here as a disturbing element.” 

i ‘ May we not try to forget it all for the after¬ 
noon?” said Joan. U I am anxious about my mother, 
and it would disturb her very much if she heard any¬ 
thing of the matter.” 

‘ ‘ That’s easy, ’ ’ said Magnet rising to the difficulty. 
“You will be very careful, Miss Defensor, not to intro¬ 
duce me to your mother, — that is if she has already 
met the gentleman who condescended to personate my 
humble self.” 

“It seems a shame,” said Joan, “but it’s just 
lovely of you. I wonder if you will come here to din¬ 
ner with us some time later after I have the opportunity 
of telling mother all about it. ’ ’ 

“I shall be very pleased,” said Magnet. “I’m 
sorry I have never met your mother and you before. 
I have frequently heard of you from friends. Mr. 
[188] 


UNVEILINGS 


Bullion here has had the advantage of me for a long 
time past.” 

It was a trying afternoon for even such a resource¬ 
ful young woman as Joan Defensor, but by devious 
ways she managed to guide events through the hours 
successfully. 

Magnet did not stay very long, spent sufficient time 
talking to acquaintances here and there, and then, 
happy to get away from an unnatural situation, went 
off quietly without the formality of good bye. Syden¬ 
ham Curfew, unknown to himself, was carefully looked 
after and found no chance for speaking alone with 
Mrs .Defensor. 

Joan knew it was only postponing the evil day but 
the respite eased her spirit, if only for the reason that 
she had much to discover, and many things to do, before 
she or her mother should next come in contact with 
Magnet or Curfew. Bullion was left after the other 
two men had gone, and Joan with a deep breath of easi¬ 
ness sought him out for consultation. 

“What does it all mean, Mr. Bullion?” she said. 
“I had a suspicion already that your friend was Boger 
Drew, but what about all these disguises? And why 
did Captain Drew refuse to come to see us, and tell 
us who he was?” 

‘ ‘ Drew is a peculiar fellow, ’’ said Bullion. ‘ 1 I feel 
like a traitor, I was not thinking about him at all this 
afternoon, and his name slipped from me unguardedly. 
Did I really give him away?” 

“It didn’t matter,” said Joan. “The secret was 
out. It seems your friend went to Mr. Curfew as the 
[189] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


representative of Sir John Magnet to make trouble 
between them. ’ ’ 

44 Yes, I heard all about it from Sir John. He’s at 
the bottom of a lot of mischief recently. Poor old 
Roger.” 

44 But why did he do it? There must have been 
some reason.” 

“I fancy he had a grievance against Sir John, what 
he considered a very great grievance. It was his way 
of getting level. You won’t think much of him, Miss 
Defensor in spite of what he did for your brother. But 
I have a great affection for him. He is a remarkable 
man, really.” 

“What is going to happen now?” 

‘ ‘ Nothing probably. He ’ll just go away. We have 
all seen the last of Roger Drew for a long time. I 
know Roger. ’ ’ 

“Go away?” said Joan. 

“I’ll guarantee that at this moment he is at his 
hotel packing his traps, that he is leaving either tonight 
or tomorrow morning at the latest, and tomorrow even¬ 
ing will be on the water going westward, or southward, 
or eastward, Heavens knows where. ’ ’ 

“But he can be stopped,” said Joan. 

“Stopped? You wouldn’t bother him for this 
affair would you? I tell you frankly, Miss Defensor, 
all my sympathies are with Roger. You know what he 
meant to your brother. This is just an escapade. 
Surely you won’t think it necessary to give him further 
trouble ? ’ ’ 

“Trouble — no, I wasn’t thinking of that, I must 
[190] 


UNVEILINGS 


talk to my mother. We must do something. We have 
looked for him for so long.” 

They passed to other topics, and Bullion admitted 
to intimacy he had not experienced before, set out on 
unknown channels. He had never seen Joan dressed 
in white, and this black haired girl in her white dress 
with her shining sympathetic eyes transformed him. 
Her manner helped. Bullion was certainly no more 
assuming than any successful virile young man ought 
to be, had indeed, more than his share of modesty, and 
yet he could not but be influenced by those understand¬ 
ing eyes and the frequent inviting phrase. Joan’s 
words made him feel warm at his constant friendship 
with Roger, the help he had given him, and Bullion 
realized that the invasion of Roger Drew was proving 
a great event for himself. And in these circumstances 
is it to be wondered at that Roger Drew paled away, 
became, even while Bullion was talking, something ex¬ 
ternal, an influence which had served its purpose, pos¬ 
sibly the purpose of Destiny. In the glow of the sum¬ 
mer afternoon, with the radiancy of Joan as she sat 
facing him with her heart in her eyes, Bullion’s spirit 
rose within him to make the great attempt. 

Joan was feeling comfort in the presence of the 
staunch Bullion, his naturalness in the face of difficul¬ 
ties, his common sense strength, his genuine friendship. 
She had never felt so interested in him before and she 
realized that she had not previously understood his 
qualities. That cleanly cut jaw, that well-formed 
aquiline nose, and the crystal clearness of his thoughts 
gave her courage and repose. In her agitation she 
rested on him. And she was not to know that in the 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 

bloom of her youth and eagerness she was asking for 
new relationships. 

“I feel that Sir John Magnet and you have been 
very kind in this troublesome thing this afternoon,’’ 
said Joan. 

“Sir John has a kindly streak in him. I was glad 
he was so courteous. He generally is, in any real diffi¬ 
culty.” 

“And you have been kind, too. I haven’t had the 
opportunity, Mr. Bullion, to tell you how much my 
mother and I have appreciated your sympathetic help 
recently. We want you to come to see us more fre¬ 
quently. ’ ’ 

“I don’t know whether I ought to, or not.” 
Bullion did not look straight at Joan; and he generally 
looked straight at people when he talked to them. There 
was a curious little inflection in his voice. 

“You mean your work is very engrossing just 
now. I know how busy you are. ’ ’ 

“Not so busy as all that.” 

“Then come up and see us when you can. Don’t 
let any ceremony stand in the way. This isn’t a gen¬ 
eral invitation; it really means that my mother and I 
will be glad to see you any afternoon or evening that 
you can come and talk to us. My mother asks about 
you frequently. She doesn’t forget your help about 
Captain Drew.” 

Bullion was looking directly at Joan now, but she 
wondered from the look in his eyes if he were giving 
attention to her words, and she felt a queer little ner¬ 
vousness about him. 

“You need give me no thanks for anything I can 
[192] 


UNVEILINGS 


do for you, Miss Defensor. I just can’t help feeling 
happy when I do something that pleases you.” 

“I didn’t know Americans were such courtiers.” 

Bullion brushed aside the evasion. “I am no 
courtier. I have sometimes wished I was more of one. 
T’m afraid I’ma very unornamental man without many 
attractions.” 

“Is this the season for deep sea fishing, Mr. 
Bullion ? ’ ’ 

Bullion talked on as if he had not heard. He was 
transfigured. The garden party, Roger Drew, Magnet, 
business, his ambitions, were insignificant trifles. He 
was on a new plane, and the universe past, present, and 
future was in the shining eyes of this tall girl in white 
who sat opposite to him. 

“I suppose I’m just silly but I’ve got to tell you. 
From the first time I saw you nearly a year ago I had 
new strange feelings. If I never saw you again after 
this afternoon you have brought a great deal of happi¬ 
ness into my life because I have had secret hours of 
joy just in thinking of you. I suppose that sounds 
rather school-boyish, I can’t help it; it’s the truth. My 
other interests have been drab. I wonder if you have 
the same eftect on all men ? That’s a horrible thought 
to me, but I suppose it’s true. You spoke of my doing 
you some slight service. You took me to some other 
beautiful world by letting me do anything for you.” 

Joan rose from her seat, with her breath coming 
quickly, and Bullion saw that he had changed restful¬ 
ness into tumult. The capable Joan was forced into 
whirlpools wherein she struggled hopelessly. 

D93] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“Oh, no, no,” she cried. “I wish yon hadn’t said 
that. I’m so disturbed today. ’’ 

Bullion had risen too. “I’m sorry I upset you,” 
he said. But though his words were measured there 
was exaltation in his heart. “Let me take you in¬ 
doors.” 

“Let me go alone,” said Joan pleadingly, “I can’t 
stand it just now. ’ ’ 

Bullion went to London with fairy lightness in the 
air, and music all around. He found to his delight that 
Roger was still at the St. Claire Hotel, and in a kind 
of happy brokenness, told him how he had hope, rich 
hope. The future was his, he felt it. 

The gentle serious look in Roger’s eyes was that 
which always warmed men’s hearts toward him. He 
put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I can wish her 
no greater joy,” he said — “and as for you, you de¬ 
serve all the happiness that is coming. ” 


[ 194 ] 


CHAPTER XXIV 
Magnet Surprises Roger 

I T WAS noon next day when Bullion called up 
Leathwaite on the telephone and spoke with Joan. 
“Your mother knows about Roger Drew now, I 
suppose ?” 

“Yes, I told her late last night, and I’m afraid as 
a result she did not have much sleep. Do you know if 
Captain Drew is still in London?” 

“You needn’t worry. He’s going away to Brighton 
this evening, and is returning to London in four days’ 
time to meet Mr. Arthur Dixon, his American friend, 
who is on the way from New York.” 

“I knew Mr. Dixon was coming. I was hoping 
that Captain Drew would he held by him. Will it be 
certain that we can see him?” 

“I think we can make it certain. There have been 
developments here in the office. You will be surprised 
to hear that Captain Drew will be calling this after¬ 
noon to fill an appointment with Sir John Magnet. 
“With Sir John Magnet!” 

“Yes, Sir John and I had a long talk this morn¬ 
ing. He has telephoned to Captain Drew and made 
the engagement with him. ’ ’ 

“I’m frightfully curious about it, Mr. Bullion. 
It’s all very weird. What does Sir John Magnet want 
him for? Can’t you persuade him to come to see us 
instead of going to Brighton?” 

Das] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


‘ 1 Better wait till Mr. Dixon gets here. It’s a mixed 
up business. Wouldn’t it be nicer for you to hear from 
Captain Drew himself a little later on?” 

6 ‘Splendid, but I don’t know how my mother will 
get through the next few days.” 

“You and your mother will like to know Drew’s 
address. He is stopping at the Hotel St. Claire, 
Charing Cross.” 

The promptness of the telephone operator pre¬ 
vented Bullion from getting Joan’s word of thanks, 
but he nevertheless hung up the receiver with a feeling 
of contentment. 

That afternoon Roger went to Magnet’s office in 
the City with no very clear idea of the reason for an 
urgent business invitation, but certain that his duty lay 
in seeing Magnet, in acquiring whatever information 
was available for Dixon. Towards Magnet personally 
he was reckless. Some of Roger’s rancour had left him 
in view of his successful innovations. He had, he 
hoped, cost Magnet money; he knew he had annoyed 
him; and he trusted he had set loose currents which 
might continue for some time to cause difficulties. His 
task was nearly over. He anticipated no embarrass¬ 
ment from the interview, for a certain brazenness came 
naturally to him in the presence of the calculating, 
audacious Magnet. He surmised that Magnet might 
have used the bait of business to secure his presence 
for retaliation, or at least for threats. If such should 
prove to be the development of the afternoon, he would 
enjoy his call; he indulged himself in a steely little 
chuckle. 

When Roger was shown in to Sir John Magnet, he 
[i 9 6] 


MAGNET SURPRISES ROGER 


was on his guard, prepared to shape his manner to 
suit the occasion. Magnet came forward with a kind 
of calm, business-like friendliness, and shook hands 
with him without hesitation. “Sit down Captain Drew. 
You little expected me to ask you to call.” 

“I try always to be prepared for the worst/’ said 
Roger. 

“That won’t do for me. Here, have a cigarette. 
You know, I have come to the conclusion that you are a 
capable young man.” 

“That’s nice of you. Flattery from a successful 
person like yourself, Sir John, is a compliment how¬ 
ever pointless the suggesstion may be. Believe me, I 
have no hallucinations.” 

Magnet looked at Roger as though measuring him. 

“A very remarkable young man, too, in some ways. 
Would you like to know what has made me rich, Captain 
Drew?” 

“Don’t reveal the secrets of the prison house. I 
am untrustworthy. ’ ’ 

“You still regard me as an enemy. But I’m inter¬ 
ested in you in spite of yourself. I’m gong to tell you 
what has made me rich. People put it down to luck, 
and I’ve had some luck. Others say shrewdness, and 
I have an ordinary share of business brains. Some say 
I have done it because I am a rascal; well I daresay 
I am no saint.” 

Roger notwithstanding his antagonism began to 
feel that he had missed something in Magnet. 

“The fundamental secret which accounts for any¬ 
thing I’ve done for myself is to be found in the one 
word courage.” 


[W] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


‘'‘Yes, you have that,” said Roger. 

“I haven’t been afraid of what people thought 
about me. The copy books urge fearlessness towards 
one’s enemies. I have never been afraid of my 
friends.” 

“That’s true,” said Roger dryly. 

“I know what you are thinking, and it doesn’t 
trouble me in the least. All I have meant to convey 
to you is that a deliberate boldness — which is quite 
temperamental — means everything if it once gets into 
the right channels of effort. You will probably dis¬ 
believe me when I say that I have no personal end 
to serve in speaking appreciative words to you. Well, 
it’s a fact. Most men have no more initiative than 
sheep, a considerable number are as inanimate as cab¬ 
bages. I build on that. Nearly all the interesting 
people I have met in my life have been my enemies.” 

‘ ‘ The tribute overwhelms me, ’ ’ said Roger. 

“I thought it might. I want to congratulate you. 
You have pinched me here and there, but you have 
nearly recompensed me for everything by your treat¬ 
ment of Mr. Curfew.” 

“Did I make a false move?” said Roger. “I’m 
always blundering. ’ ’ 

“I’d like to know more about that interview of 
yours with him. ’ ’ 

A glitter of fun came into Roger’s eyes. 

“It was his own fault. When I went to the Home 
Office, he spoke to me as if I were a footman, and that 
did it.” 

“Capital,” said Magnet. 

[ 198 ] 


MAGNET SURPRISES ROGER 


“He seemed to think yon were pushing the paper 
down his throat,’’ said Roger. 

“The fool.” 

“He imagined that the change in the policy of the 
‘Daily Spur’ as evidenced by a leading article that 
morning was the lure, that you were prepared to secure 
his money by that means, in other words, that you were 
exercising blackmail.’ 9 

“You certainly are a clever devil,” said Magnet. 

“I was never so proud of my self-control.” 

“You offered him ‘Consoling Texts’.” 

“Yes that was after he swore at me.” 

Magnet surrounded himself with cigarette smoke. 
“I can really forgive you everything. Now Captain 
Drew, what do you think I invited you here for this 
morning ? ’ ’ 

“As far as I can see there is only one thing.” 

“Indeed, and what’s your idea?” 

Roger drew from his inside pocket a folded copy 
of the “Daily Spur”, and opening it carefully to the 
middle page, he handed it across to Magnet. 

“I’m prepared to fulfill the conditions of your 
offer. Indeed I have practically done so already. A 
thousand pounds is not very much, but it would be of 
considerable service to me at present. I don’t see that 
anybody but myself could possibly have secured the 
reward. Looked at in some lights I am doing you a 
favor by revealing what you want to know.” 

Magnet laid down the paper, and gazed at Roger 
steadily. “Why ever didn’t you go on the stage, Cap¬ 
tain Drew?” 


[w] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“Business is business,’’ said Roger. “I can do 
with that thousand pounds.” 

“Cheap at the price,” said Magnet, “but neverthe¬ 
less I am going to postpone payment.” 

“I’m hardly surprised. This is the second time 
you have defaulted with me.” 

“And what was the first?” 

“The thing I shall never forget,” said Roger, “is 
that you probably did not see you were doing anything 
discreditable. ’ ’ 

Roger’s air was that of a philosopher. 

“I would like a plain answer to a plain question,” 
said Magnet. “How did I break faith with you?” 

Roger maintained his mildness of expression, but 
with an increasing curiosity in the man before him. 

“I don’t mind recapitulating,” he said. “You 
heard of the profitable discovery which I was entrusted 
to sell, you found out all you could about it from me, 
you played the cordial friend, you set your spies to 
work. Then having a grip on the new invention you 
cast me off like a worn-out coat. But how stupid to 
have to repeat these things.” 

“So that’s what you think?” said Magnet. He 
sat and smoked in silence, and Roger lighted another 
cigarette, leaned back in his chair and surveyed the 
man who had ruined him. 

“My purpose in asking you here today,” said 
Magnet, “is to tell you that I have been in communi¬ 
cation with your friend, Mr. Arthur Dixon, and that 
we have arranged to meet together as soon as possible 
after he arrives in this country. 

Roger gave no evidence of his amazement in his 
[200] 


MAGNET SURPRISES ROGER 


silent contemplative stare, and then lie rose and took 
np his hat and stick. “You have given me remarkable 
news, Sir John. I tell you straight that I ’m happy to 
think that my friend Mr. Dixon is going to deal with 
you at close quarters.” 

4 4 1 shall be glad to meet him , 9 9 said Magnet. 4 4 He 
has a good reputation on the other side.” 


CHAPTER XXV 
Dixon Takes A Hand 

R OGER keen for his friend’s arrival came back 
from an invigorating three days at Brighton 
to await the telegram which was to tell him his 
friend had reached Liverpool, for he was eager to 
clear up matters. When the message came from Dixon 
its purport gave Roger both perplexity and disappoint¬ 
ment. 

u Arrived well and fit. Have to visit personal 
friends, but will see you in two days from now.” 

At kindling point to see Dixon, Roger swore at 
the forty-eight hours delay, and marvelled that the 
American should be able to defer for so long an enquiry 
into the devastating muddle of business which had 
brought him over. However prosperous Arthur Dixon 
was, and however wide his interests, he could not be in¬ 
different to the large amount of money involved in the 
rubber invention, and it might be that every single 
day’s delay meant further loss. Dixon’s temperament 
generally made him go straight to the heart of a diffi¬ 
culty, and Roger tramped up and down his room im¬ 
patiently, puzzled, and almost angry. He was to learn 
more than he yet knew of his friend’s capacity for 
action. 

Six hours after Roger received the telegram, 
Arthur Dixon arrived in London at Euston, and took 
a taxi to Cunlitfe’s, the fashionable hotel in Grosvenor 
[202] 


DIXON TAKES A HAND 


Street. From there he dispatched two telegrams, one 
to Joan Defensor, to the effect that he would be at 
Leathwaite at ten-thirty the next morning, and the 
other to Magnet with the information that he would 
be at the financier’s office at four o’clock in the after¬ 
noon. Whatever his deficiencies Arthur Dixon was not 
the man to let the grass grow under his feet. 

Next morning he went from the West End over 
to Waterloo Station and took a train for Leathwaite. 
The hour’s journey gave him time for some reflections. 
Dixon, though he had learned little on the personal 
side about Mrs. Defensor and Joan, had nevertheless 
furnished himself with an outline about them. He was 
bent on helping Roger, who he perceived had suffered 
from foolish pride, and from disinclination or inability 
to take advantage of a singular opportunity. Dixon 
had a mental picture of a fragile aged lady and an 
angular middle-aged daughter, who were looking for 
an emotional object on which to expend some of their 
surplus wealth. He knew they were rich. He did not 
expect that by forcing Roger into their orbit there 
would be a sudden transference of cash, but his experi¬ 
ence told him that these two women must have large 
interests in industrial enterprises, must for that rea¬ 
son, if for no other, have influence which could be 
turned to big account by the enterprise, brains, and 
personality of a man like Roger Drew. Dixon knew 
that his purpose was legitimate, more than that, was 
laudable; he felt he could bring not only satisfaction to 
the two women but welfare to his friend. He thought 
out his lines of approach as he pictured Mrs. Defensor 
and her daughter. He had already a feeling of 

[203] 


THE ESCAPADE OP ROGER DREW 


kindliness for them, something of pity too. He knew 
the type. Divorced from the full rich life of youth, en¬ 
veloped with wealth, they needed an interest — and an 
interest he was going to give them. He experienced 
the happy glow which comes to a philanthropist who is 
bestowing his benevolence in well-directed courses. 

In this mood Dixon walked from the village station 
to Leathwaite Hall. His mission grew a little less im¬ 
portant as he relaxed in admiration of the same soft 
green beauty which had stirred Magnet a few days 
before, and paused to take in the great oaks beneath 
which, unknown to him, Roger had made his final stand 
before Magnet and Curfew. But Dixon was himself 
again ten minutes later, when he was shown into the 
library of the Hall to await Joan. She came sailing in 
a picture of summeriness in blue and white. Dixon 
had some of his preconceptions suddenly blown to 
atoms. 

“It was good of you to come Mr. Dixon.” 

“A real pleasure.” 

“I suppose you wondered what kind of a forward 
English miss you were going to meet.” 

“I admired your initiative, Miss Defensor. I was 
glad to get your letter. One of my reasons for coming 
to this country was to help you . 9 9 

In the course of the next five minutes Dixon found 
himself possessed of a new interest in his undertaking. 
He had, as one of his unclassified assets, a swift intui¬ 
tion about individuals, sudden strange likes, and dis¬ 
likes, and though he said little, Joan felt the sympathy 
coming out of him. Very soon she was deep in her 
story, telling it with naturalness and simplicity. A 

[204] 


DIXON TAKES A HAND 


matter-of-fact query or two from Dixon drew out some 
details. He told some of Roger’s life in America, 
described the business which had sent him over to 
England, and presently said, “I have a regard for 
Roger. I would like to say this, and I know it will give 
your mother and yourself a good deal of pleasure, when 
you get to know Roger Drew you will find him a chival¬ 
rous kind-hearted man, and one who only requires the 
proper surroundings, and a big motive to lead him to 
success. From what you say I guess you sometimes 
wondered between you whether you would be dis¬ 
appointed in him. You won’t be disappointed. You 
can be proud that your brother had such a friend.” 

A smile lit up the square face of the American. 

“I don’t throw compliments around for nothing, 
Miss Defensor.” 

“I can only say Mr. Dixon that you have brought 
my mother and me much contentment and pleasure.” 

“You’re not through yet,” said Dixon. “He’s an 
erratic soul. I can hold him for a day or two, but I 
don’t know what’s going to happen then. I shall look 
for your co-operation. You two ladies want to get a 
grip of this fellow and talk to him for the good of his 
soul. Isn’t that the position!” 

“I don’t know that I would quite put it that way, 
but we want to know Captain Drew as a friend, and 
to show him that we are friends. And unless he then 
desires to run away from us we would like to continue 
to know him. ’ ’ 

“The first thing is that he should not escape, and 
that you and your mother see him under circumstances 
[205] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


of a less exciting nature than were possible here the 
other day. Are you going to be staying down here for 
a little ? 9 9 

‘ 1 For at least a month, ’ 9 said Joan. 

“And I can get in touch with you any time by 
telephone or telegram V 9 

“Yes, and I’ll do anything you wish.” 

“Well you just leave it to me for the present and 
I’ll try to shape things.” 

“I know I can trust you,” said Joan. 

“You surely can,” said Dixon. 

He stayed to lunch with Joan and her mother, and 
under their homelike hospitality and unpretentiousness 
wondered if he was doing the right thing in omitting 
any reference to the other side of Roger, his love of a 
game of poker, his fondness for good wine, his light¬ 
ness with women. He stiffened himself as he remem¬ 
bered the struggle of his friend. He was there to up¬ 
hold Roger’s stock, not to lower it. And he unbent 
into the agreeable occupation of making himself pleas¬ 
ant with pleasant people. The two women enjoyed 
him much, the occasional commanding softness in his 
hard blue eyes, the witty word and gesture. Dixon 
always gave automatic comfort to friends in times of 
difficulty by a sense of foursquare capability and good 
humour. He radiated cheerful strength. 

“I suppose you regard me as a kind of good 
fairy?” he said to Mrs. Defensor. 

‘‘1 was thinking exactly that. ’ ’ 

“Some would say a change of part for the Amer¬ 
ican business man,” said Joan. 

“And they would be quite right,” replied Dixon. 

[206] 


DIXON TAKES A HAND 


“I am just luxuriating in your good opinion. They 
wouldn’t know me in Broadway.” 

“And can the leopard thus change his spots?” 
asked Mrs. Defensor. 

“Now listen, Mrs. Defensor. I’m about as hard a 
specimen of successful business as you can find.” 

“Forgive me, I don’t believe it.” 

“In this hard old world of ours a benevolent busi¬ 
ness man is a contradiction in terms. We put on 
angel’s wings for a holiday,” Dixon chuckled. “I love 
to hear you say what a nice man I am. You make me 
think there might be something in it. I suppose there 
is, when I feel good like I do today.” 

“I’m in the mood, to disbelieve some of these 
genial cynicisms,” said Joan. 

“I am profoundly thankful that you are never 
likely to get the opinions expressed about me by 
Johnstons the coal people, by the Frick Brothers who 
manufacture candy, or by the Southern Nut-Growers 
Association. As the result of varying deals I’ve been 
called ‘trickster’, 4 tyrant’, ‘gumshoe Arthur’, and 
‘brass nails.’ There were some other words which I 
haven’t got the courage to repeat. Possibly I deserve 
all that is said. My consolation is that the' other peo¬ 
ple would have treated me just as harshly as I treated 
them if they had had the chance. ’ ’ 

“What a curious life,” said Joan. 

“I ease up a bit sometimes when I find a person I 
like.” 

“Penance,” smiled Mrs. Defensor. 

“No, Mrs. Defensor, self-indulgence. It pleases me. 
I like Roger Drew.” 


[207] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“You must meet some of our business men,” said 
Mrs. Defensor. “There is Mr. Bullion.” 

“Yes,” said Joan. “You ought to meet Mr. 
Bullion.” 

“A regular fellow I’ve heard. He’s been pretty 
good to Roger.” 

“We have a great respect for him,” said Mrs. 
Defensor. “We’ll have you here together one day.” 

44 Fine. I ’ll get an opportunity to meet them both 
separately first. I’ll see Roger tonight.” 

Dixon went on to tell them something of his plans, 
his projected visit to Magnet, and what he hoped might 
result from it. Joan’s eyes glistened, and Mrs. Defen¬ 
sor clapped her hands together and said, 4 4 That would 
be lovely. I do hope you ’re successful. ’ ’ 

Dixon left under a pressing invitation for a return 
visit, and Joan said, 44 You don’t know how anxious we 
shall be to hear from you.” 

When he had gone Mrs. Defensor turned to Joan. 
“I didn’t think I’d ever like the American accent so 
much. ’ ’ 

Dixon strode off down the drive towards the sta¬ 
tion still in the gentle atmosphere behind him, while his 
mind ranged back over the years. Money-making 
Dixon, whose assiduity in the great pursuit was a by¬ 
word among his associates, was thinking back a decade, 
thinking of a little home on the north side of Long 
Island, where a dainty young woman had made life 
golden for him. She was scarcely more than a girl 
when the fatal illness came. The Defensors somehow 
brought her back to him. He pinched his lips together. 

[208] 


DIXON TAKES A HAND 


Five years of perfect happiness! After all it was more 
than most men get, and a great deal more than most 
men deserve. Dixon put his mind on to the business 
of the day. 


[209] 


CHAPTER XXVI 
Dixon Works Fast 

D IXON went to Magneto office that afternoon 
with very different feelings from those which 
had possessed Roger on his first visit. This 
was no adventure for the American; the London finan¬ 
cier was not unexplored territory to be approached 
with hopes and fears. Dixon was on solid ground. 

“It was very good of you to come and see me,” 
said Magnet with a cordial handshake. 

“The pleasure is mine,” said Dixon, “I had to 
make the journey on a personal matter, and it seemed 
well that we should have a talk after your letters 
to me.” 

“I fear I was the cause of some misunderstanding 
on the part of Captain Drew whom you sent over. ’ 9 
“I’ve heard something of it. Partly my fault, Sir 
John, partly yours, too, perhaps.” 

“No doubt about that. We can soon clear up mat¬ 
ters now you are here. ’ 9 

“You seem to have got busy when you heard from 
Drew that we had the draw on you.” 

“ Naturally enough. Here had we been slaving 
away at this thing in Scotland for a year or more, and 
then we hear that you have beaten us. I wired over 
at once to set people at work to find out whether you 
were on the same lines as ourselves.” 

“And to find out anything else.” Dixon grinned. 
[ 210 ] 


DIXON WORKS FAST 


“You caused one man to be booted out in double quick 
time from our Newark place. Another was nearly put 
into a tub of water. ’ ’ 

“Martyrs to science—and business/’ said Magnet. 

Dixon laughed heartily. 

“I think we shall get on very well together, Sir 
J ohn. ’ ’ 

He took some papers from his pocket. “Now as 
to the situation, I gather you came in close on our 
heels. ’’ 

“We knew the secret about a week after Drew 
arrived. There was just the one thing missing. We 
found it.” 

“I’m not going to ask you whether you got it from 
Newark.’ ’ 

“It’s quite certain you would not believe me if I 
said we made the genuine discovery in our Scottish 
factory. Let it pass. We had it.” 

“And then the disappointment.” 

“I put it to you, Mr. Dixon, as a business man; 
here had we spent thousands of pounds, and months 
of work, in these experiments; we learn that an Amer¬ 
ican firm is successful, and we too get the secret after 
their representative arrives in this country. Would 
you not have hurried to the patent office to secure the 
first protection?” 

“I suppose so. And I should have been as angry 
as you were to find that the other firm had already put 
in an application for the provisional patent here.” 

Magnet motioned mock despair. 

“And then Drew can’t understand why I flew at 
him like a mad dog when he came in here after I had 
[ 211 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


practically confessed failure to him in a nice letter. I 
staved him off. I hoped there might be some way out, 
and I wanted to get clear from any connection. ’ ’ 

“He’sa rare hoy. He gave you no rest.” 

“He’s a reckless scamp.” 

“I rather love him.” 

‘ 4 Tell me how it was done,’ 9 said Magnet. ‘ 4 When 
I got Bullion’s wireless from the steamer I found there 
was nothing at the patent office. That’s what made me 
go ahead.” 

“I wasn’t taking any risks. By the same steamer 
that brought Drew there was a letter with the neces¬ 
sary specifications to our London lawyer with a note 
from myself. They made the provisional application 
at once. I didn’t worry Roger about it; I wanted him 
to make good. At the same time it was necessary to 
cover ourselves in case of failure.” 

“I can’t think why you didn’t tell him.” 

“There was no reason why he should know until 
he was actually in negotiation with a likely purchaser. ’ ’ 

“The first question such a person would ask would 
be as to its protection here.” 

“That’s all right; the thing was done. An en¬ 
quiry, and an answering cable, and there would have 
been no further difficulty. I didn’t tell Roger before 
he sailed because I had impressed on him the necessity 
for secrecy. As you say, perhaps I might have told 
him that I was making the application but 1 wanted 
to give him the impression that no one but himself 
knew anything about the business at all. I didn’t want 
the thing to be hawked around, or other people to know 
about it, and I was confident that Roger, being solely 

[ 212 ] 


DIXON WORKS FAST 


in possession, would never drop a word except in the 
right quarters. I daresay if Roger had been one of 
ourselves, I should have given him the specifications 
to take to the patent office. He was just an outside 
friend. I wanted him to centre on selling the invention 
and nothing else. Besides a lawyer is always better 
in these matters. It was a little roundabout but I ran 
no risks. When I got his cable about you 1 thanked 
all the gods that be for the precautions I had taken.’’ 

“Thanks,” said Magnet. 

“And now,” said Dixon cheerily, “we come to 
business.” 

Before the two men separated there had been out¬ 
lined an agreement under which the British rights of 
“Fundamental Motorities, Ltd.”, in the new invention 
were to be taken over by Magnet’s company at a figure 
which promised substantial profits to both. 

Dixon went up to the St. Claire Hotel at Charing 
Cross smoking a big cigar, a sure sign that the crush 
of business was over, and that business had progressed 
satisfactorily. He rolled the cigar from one side of his 
mouth to the other as he noted that Roger, glad and 
relieved at his arrival, showed signs of depression. It 
was but a minute or so before other indications were 
forthcoming. 

“The sight of you is a tonic, you old rapscallion,” 
said Roger. “Of course I ought to be confoundedly 
sorry to see you here.” 

“And why?” said Dixon. 

“A small matter,” said Roger, “I’ve lost you a 
fortune, that’s all. Come over here in the corner of the 
smoking-room; I’ve got to talk to you. I hate to do 

[213] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


it. Do you know, Dixon, for the first time in my experi¬ 
ence I am truly sorry for my self.’’ 

“You’ll get over it,” said Dixon. 

“Do you think I’m talking of the money? You’re 
a crazy man. What I’m thinking of is I’ve lost a friend. 
What did you trammel yourself with me for?” 

Dixon took the cigar from his mouth and said, 
“Well I’ve been worried too.” 

“Of course you have.” 

“I am a business man, my lad, and I’ve been 
worrying whether you were going to try to soak me 
for more than the commission I promised you. You 
won’t get it, I can tell you that. ’ ’ 

Dixon raised a finger and shook it at Roger. 
“When you took on this job you took on all the bother, 
and work, and anxiety connected with it, and you are 
not going to get an additional farthing out of me be¬ 
cause you had a lot of trouble. Let me be perfectly 
straight with you. ’ ’ 

Roger leaned back in his chair, and looked at his 
friend calmly and carefully and then he said, “I always 
knew that prohibition would play the very devil with 
a man when he got into this land of freedom.” 

Dixon got up from his chair, and took Roger by 
the shoulders and shook him to and fro. 

“Blatherskite, what’s eating you?” 

Roger stood up. There was a great lightening of 
his heart. His tone and his face,, however, were quite 
grave as he said, “It’s not drink and to all appearance, 
he’s sane.” 

Dixon rippled and shook with laughter. “So you 
thought you’d done it Roger?” 

[214] 


DIXON WORKS FAST 


“I had a suspicion that way.” 

“Well now sit down there, and listen to me for 
a little.” 

In the next fifteen minutes Dixon sketched all that 
had happened about the business, including his talk 
with Magnet that afternoon. 

“He’s not such a bad chap after all,” said Roger. 

“Of course he’s not.” 

“And to think what I’ve done to the man.” 

“Specially as he’s going to put thousands of 
pounds into your pocket.” 

“How do you make that out?” 

“You’ve fulfilled your undertaking with us, and 
through your approach to him he is going to buy the 
rights. That means you get your remuneration, as we 
agreed upon.” 

Roger did not speak for a little and then he said, 
“It only requires the hotel to collapse into dust, leaving 
us uninjured, to know that I am in a real world.” 

Dinner with Dixon that evening was a pleasant 
meal. With gusto Roger told of his adventures, and 
he had a responsive audience. Dixon stopped him once, 
and that was at the first mention of the Defensors. 

“The Defensors?” he exclaimed. “Why they’re 
old friends of mine.” 

“You never told me,” said Roger. 

“Why should I? And by the way, I’ve fixed you 
for an appointment with me, and you’ve got to keep it. 
You and I are invited to lunch with the Defensors at 
Leathwaite Hall tomorrow.” 

“Why, when did you see them?” 

“Went down there this morning and had a chat. I 
[215] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


suppose I can go to see old friends if I like. You are 
not the only pebble on the beach. Don’t look so sur¬ 
prised. Ob, I know you Roger. You will never confess 
it, but your vanity is hurt that I went and saw anybody 
before I saw you. Haven’t you any sense of propriety? 
Ladies first, my boy, ladies first.” 

Roger screwed up bis mouth in curious shape. 
“You are a sly cunning man, Arthur Dixon.” 

“All of that,” said Dixon. 

It was a lengthy telegram which the American 
sent off to Joan Defensor that night explaining how 
he had taken the liberty of inviting Roger and himself 
to lunch next day. 


CHAPTER XXVII 
Rogek At Bay 

44 T AM very glad to meet yon at last, Captain Drew, ’’ 
said Mrs. Defensor. i AVe have been seeking for 
A yon for a long time.” 

Compunction was in Roger. 

“I am afraid I’ve been a very stnpid man, Mrs. 
Defensor. Will yon let me apologize for the last week 
or two? I don’t quite know what to say about it.” 

“Possibly there are some excellent excuses.” 

“I feel like a naughty school boy. I’ve a sense of 
having been very disrespectful. I ought not to have 
come here the other day as I did.” 

Neither Dixon nor Joan had ever known Roger 
so quiet as he was throughout the lunch. Mrs. Defen¬ 
sor was truly surprised. Here was no gay buccaneer 
such as she had been led to expect, but a well-mannered, 
almost sombre man, who occasionally displayed him¬ 
self as not entirely at his ease. There was plenty to 
talk about, and Joan was exhilarated as Dixon, with 
comment and incident, rallied his friend about his do¬ 
ings since he landed in England. Roger made a smil¬ 
ing reply here and there, but the fire had gone out of 
him, and he would have been almost unrecognizable to 
Magnet or to Curfew. 

Animation crept upon him after lunch when Mrs. 
Defensor led the conversation to her dead son, and 
Roger began to tell his experiences at the front in 
[217] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


which Dick Defensor had shared. The high spirits of 
Dick, his light heartedness, his boyish generosity, these 
and other traits Roger told about in a running, though 
somewhat disconnected narrative. Once he looked up 
and saw Mrs. Defensor gazing at him with a fixity in 
her eyes which told him a tale more pathetic than tears. 
Joan broke the strain. 

“ One of these days Captain Drew you must relate 
some other things about Dick, his mischief — I know he 
was mischievous — and about his flirtations, if he ever 
had any. Don’t look at me like that mother. I don’t 
believe you knew your son as he really was.” 

“Anything I can give you about Dick is yours for 
the asking,” said Roger. “He wasn’t Sunday-schoolish 
but he was a clean boy. I know not a single thing about 
him which I couldn’t tell to you or to his mother. ’ ’ 

Dixon toyed with his glass. 

“Shall we go outside?” said Mrs. Defensor sud¬ 
denly. And each of the others knew she could not bear 
any more just then. 

As they went into the garden Joan took her mother 
on one side and whispered a few words to her. 

“I suppose I’m foolish,” said Mrs. Defensor, 
“but he makes me want to cry when I hear him talk. 
I don’t want to be silly in front of him.” 

11 Suppose you sit in one of the basket chairs under 
the trees here while I take them round.” 

Joan did not wait for her mother’s reply. She 
turned to the two men and said, “Mother is going to 
have a rest out here while I parade you round the 
garden. ’ ’ 

The three began to move off together and Dixon 
[218] 


ROGER AT BAY 


said, “ Naturally Captain Drew knows something about 
this place already. He brought his admiring eyes to 
bear on it a day or two ago.” 

“I can stand it again,” said Roger with a touch of 
lightness. They had wandered into the old rose garden 
when Dixon made his stroke. 

44 Roger, I’m going to give you a chance to make 
your explanations and apologies to this young lady for 
all the bother you’ve caused her since you came over 
here as my representative. I’m also a little selfish. I 
have never seen a beautiful old English place like this 
before, and I want to ramble round entirely by myself 
and just drink it all in with my own thoughts about it. ’ ’ 

“Oh, we couldn’t leave you like that,” said Joan 
hurriedly. 

“I’m determined to leave you,” said Dixon. 

“There isn’t need for an apology of any kind from 
Captain Drew,” protested Joan. 

“If you hadn’t suggested it,” said Roger, “I was 
going to ask bluntly for a few minutes alone with Miss 
Defensor. I want to speak to her on several matters.” 

Neither Joan nor Dixon had ever seen Roger so 
grave, so decided. 

‘ 4 That ends it, ’ ’ said Dixon. “ I ’ll find my way back 
here in half an hour or so and here goes for a fascinat¬ 
ing exploring expedition.” He set off by himself. 

Joan and Roger found a seat at the end of the 
garden away from the roses. Shading them was a big 
hawthorn, the white May flowers of which had dropped 
away with the full efflorescence of summer, leaving dis¬ 
jointed glittering greenery. Facing them was a stately 
bed of nodding Canterbury Bells, bordered with 

[ 219 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 

encircling turf and behind as a background an ivy-clad 
wall ten feet high was lightened with honeysuckle in 
full bloom. Away on the right the roses swayed in 
the sunlight, and sent forth their faintly discernible 
messages of fragrance. Three or four white butterflies 
were chasing each other over the Canterbury Bells. 
The buzz of hurrying bumble-bees spread a sense of 
happy langour. From the distance came the barking of 
a collie dog on an adjoining farm. Roger gave a 
silent sigh. 

“You ought to be a happy woman,” he said. 

“It is very lovely, but of course the sun is not 
always shining on summer days.” 

Roger turned himself round to face her. “I wanted 
to add something about your brother, and it is a mes¬ 
sage for your mother as well as for yourself. Last 
night before I went to bed I busied myself for a couple 
of hours in writing out all the little details I could 
think of about Dick, his frivolities, very innocent ones, 
how he lost his temper and nearly fought with a brother 
officer, what he was like when he and the rest of us had 
to screw up resolution to climb out of the trenches, 
and also things that his friends and the men said about 
him. It’s all written out on typewriting paper for 
you.” 

“It was most kind of you to take all this trouble, 
and I know my mother will treasure it. You would 
have been able however as time went on to tell us all 
these things.” 

“I have also packed up into a little parcel and 
addressed to your mother here two or three little trifles 
I had from him, a book of detective stories, a wire 
[220] 


ROGER AT BAY 


puzzle with which we used to have fun, and an army 
cap he gave me when I lost mine in action. There are 
one or two other little things.” 

Joan looked at him without saying anything. 

“You will get the message and the parcel to¬ 
morrow. ' ' 

“Why don't you bring them yourself sometime?” 

“I'm going to leave England, and probably I 
sha'n't see you for a good while.” 

< ‘ Leaving England ?'' said Joan. ‘ ‘ Aren't you go¬ 
ing to visit us again ?'' 

“I am not going to do any sensational disappear¬ 
ing trick,” said Roger, “I've finished with that. I am 
just going off to work hard. I have to talk with Dixon 
to try to fix something up in America. But after all 
the trouble I have given you I ought to say that if your 
mother and you want to send word to me, I won't be 
out of touch, and if there is anything I can do, or any¬ 
thing I can tell you, you will always be able to reach 
me by letter. I'll take care of that.” 

J oan knew as well as if he had said the words that 
this meant his final goodbye to them. 

“I'm going to be personal Captain Drew. If you 
knew the feeling you have inspired in my mother you 
would not go off in this way. She would like to be able 
to see you often. We can not interfere with your busi¬ 
ness arrangements of course, but I wish, if it is pos¬ 
sible, that you would tell my mother and me why you 
think it necessary to leave. Is it presumptuous of 
me to say that Mr. Dixon has told us that he regards 
your visit here as a success, and that he looks forward 
to your staying here to represent him?” 

[ 221 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“I don’t deserve to have such a friend,” said 
Roger; “that’s not mock modesty, I simply don’t.” 

“I like him,” said Joan. 

“He has saved me from a great part of a load of 
humiliation,” said Roger, “and I am going to save 
myself from the rest. That is one reason why I am 
going away. There is another; I am going to tell it to 
you as clearly as possible.” 

“I want to hear,” said Joan. 

“After the war I did not come to see Dick Defen¬ 
sor’s mother or sister because I knew they were rich 
people, and I had to earn my living. I guessed that 
what I did for Dick had probably become magnified in 
your minds. I did not want to find myself in any false 
position. The sensible thing would have been to have 
made one call on you and then to have gone away. I 
did not do the sensible thing. I can see now I was 
rather selfish in blotting myself out as if I did not have 
any natural feeling. Anyway I went off. You know all 
about that, and it takes the story, so far as you and 
your mother are concerned, right down to the time you 
were in New York. I had struggled to make a little 
money, just enough to supplement my small income, 
and had wandered hither and thither, never having any 
strong motive to cause me to look more than a few 
months ahead. I suppose I was born haphazard. Lat¬ 
terly, however, some dormant common sense has made 
itself felt, and I’ve been casting round for something 
to which I could devote myself more or less per¬ 
manently, with a view not only of making money but 
to showing myself that I was good for something. I 

[222] 


ROGER AT BAY 


wonder if all this sounds somewhat crude to you, Miss 
Defensor f ” 

“lam deeply inter ested,” said Joan quietly. 

“I can afford to be candid now, and I’m going to 
let you see my vulgar self before I say goodbye. In 
addition to other disabilities, I had what is known 
as the flirtatious temperament, and I fooled about with 
girls wherever I met them. I am not even a very 
respectable member of society. An embarrassment with 
two girls in Cincinnati quickened my efforts in New 
York, and I fell in with Dixon, who out of kindness of 
heart put me in the way of the rubber business. I 
thought I knew myself pretty well, but it was not till 
I met a girl on the 4 Latian ’ that I realized exactly how 
I must look to others if they knew everything about 
me. The girl was yourself.” 

Joan half rose to her feet. “I did not know — ” 
she began. 

Roger stood up. “I’ve probably tired you,” he 
said. 4 4 Shall we go in ? ” 

Joan sat down again. 

“I would like you to tell me all you had in your 
mind, Captain Drew, if, as you say, you are going 
away. ’ ’ 

Roger stood before her as he continued his story. 
“I saw a tall girl with reserves hiding tenderness and 
truth. I felt that no discerning person could see her 
without happy vibrations. She carried understanding 
and wisdom in everything about her, her eyes, the way 
she held her head, in her walk, in the tone of her voice. 
I suppose you think I exaggerate when I say that there 
was a kind of refined gentleness about her which made 
[223] 


THE ESCAPADE OP ROGER DREW 


a man like me feel I could never get close to her in 
intimate talk. She was in a different spiritual world. 
I am not exaggerating at all. I have never been so 
truthful in my life. Will you please forgive me for 
saying these things; they are just facts. You won’t 
be bothered again.” 

Roger forced himself to look at Joan, and found 
her eyes on his face, saddened eyes, looking through 
him and beyond him even while she listened. 

Roger went on hurriedly, “I am not making any 
foolish declaration of love as a suitor. I am silly, but 
I am not so silly as that. I am not going to keep you 
much longer. I thought I had been tricked by Magnet; 
the waster was also a fool. Can you wonder that I did 
not care what steps I took to injure Magnet? I had a 
perfect passion to get quits with him before I disap¬ 
peared. Things have gone a bit awry and you’ve got 
to know all about it. It’s all done with now. Will you 
let me say, Miss Defensor, I will carry the memory of 
you wherever I go all my life. I am sure you will like 
to know it will be for me a good influence.” 

During the last part of Roger’s narrative Joan 
with her elbows on her knees had dropped her face to 
her hands. Now at the last sentence, she roused her¬ 
self and looked at him again. She was very serious 
and composed but Roger was embarrassed to see a tear 
running down her cheek. 

“I have disturbed you,” he said. “I’m afraid 
I’ve been very selfish.” 

“And so you are going away?” said Joan. 

Roger bowed. 

“I would like to say one thing. I want to add to 
[224] 


ROGER AT BAY 


your list of bad qualities.” She was looking at him 
squarely now. “You are cursed with pride/’ 

“ Pride ?” said the astounded Roger. 

“You’re the proudest man I’ve ever met in my 
life.” 

There was something in her face which took 
Roger’s breath away, although he knew not what it 
portended. He stood before her helpless, but full of 
wonderment. Joan herself was staring at him but was 
quite silent; and she was apparently ignorant of the 
tear which was wandering unrestrained down her face. 
She stood up, and then, in a forced way, she said, “My 
mother and I will always be pleased to see you at 
Leathwaite Hall, Captain Drew.” 

They began to walk together out of the garden. 
Her silence perturbed Roger. “I do hope I haven’t 
given you any unnecessary pain. I don’t want you to 
have any mistaken notions about me.” 

She stopped and faced him, and said very steadily, 
“I have no mistaken notions about you.” 

“I fancied you had.” 

“I know you well. I knew very much about you 
when I saw you on the ship, not the history you have 
told me and all the hard facts, but other things.” 

“Yes, I suppose we men carry in our faces marks 
to be read by an intuitive woman. It doesn’t give me 
much comfort, Miss Defensor.” 

Joan talked on as if she had not heard a word. 
“Something caused me to suspect that you were not 
Sir John Magnet when I met you in the ‘Daily Spur’ 
office, and I was soon practically certain that you were 
Roger Drew.” 


[22 5 ] 


THE ESCAPADE OF ROGER DREW 


“I felt that you knew more of me than I could 
wish; I felt it.” 

“I made it my business to find out a great deal 
more about you, all kinds of things, some of which you 
are not proud of.” 

Roger shrugged his shoulders. 

4 ‘You are a clever man but sometimes you are 
obtuse.” For the first time Joan’s voice trembled a 
little. “I would like you to know how much more I 
thought of you for that obtuseness.” 

“I’ve been stupid in a good many things,” said 
Roger gently. “I ought not to have kept away from 
your mother and you so long.” 

Joan had her head thrown back a little but she was 
not so steady as she looked. As she surveyed this 
world-bitten man of affairs so many years her senior 
she had a certain sudden sense of superiority and age, 
a kind of motherliness to him. It was hard work to 
keep back the tears as she looked at him. 

“I’ve wanted to know the Captain Drew who was 
so kind and noble to my brother. And so when I met 
him — ” 

“We all have to face disappointments,” said 
Roger with a smile. 

“When I met him,” went on Joan, “I am almost 
ashamed to confess it, I didn’t think of my brother so 
much — ’ ’ 

Roger stared at her and wondered what was com¬ 
ing. Roger Drew had met his match at last. 

She looked at him unflinchingly, and there was 
something in her eyes which set Roger’s pulses in a 
flutter. He tried to get command of himself. 

[226] 


ROGER AT BAY 


“I truly hope for your happiness. There’s 
Bullion — ” 

“Bullion!” 

In a scathing intonation she has sent an idea crash¬ 
ing to oblivion. Poor Bullion! 

Roger felt fire running through him, and knew that 
he was trembling, and he strove to find a word. 

“Do you want to leave me!” said Joan. 

He made half a step towards her, and in the frac¬ 
tion of a second before she swayed forward he looked 
into her eyes and all his plans dropped away, and 
Heaven came upon him. He put around her a strong 
arm from which she would never afterwards escape. 

“And it is true?” he said. 

“It’s been true for some time.” 

He guided her back to the seat they had just left, 
and there was Paradise for five minutes with the roses 
looking on and the white butterflies still chasing each 
other above the Canterbury Bells. 

“And you’d love me if I wasn’t Roger Drew?” 
he said presently. 

“Yes, if you were plain George Grey or even Sir 
John Magnet. What of you? Will you marry me in 
spite of the fact that I am rich?” 

“I’d marry you if you had millions,” said Roger. 


Dixon was close upon them before they saw him 
and there was an assumption of tremendous surprise 
on his face as he said, “Have you two been deceiv¬ 
ing me?” 

“Behold Satan reproving sin,” said Roger, as he 
stood with his arm linked in Joan’s. 

[227] 



THE ESCAPADE OP ROGER DREW 


“I want to give yon my heartiest congratulations, 
Miss Defensor.” 

Joan took his hand and bent over it and kissed it. 

“I ought to tell this young man,” said Dixon as 
he shook hands with Roger, “that he doesn’t deserve 
his happiness. I’m sure it will please Miss Defensor 
best if I say the truth. I believe she will find him 
worthy of her.” 

Joan had no words. She clung to Roger like a child. 


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